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Early to mid-year 2044

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It took a little over a month before they re-opened the school, to a much smaller student body size. What happened weighing heavily on the minds of the parents of the Bio-Morph student body, especially since many of them are escaped slaves, they ended up pulling out their kids.

Few blamed them.

Those that did, blamed how there was no supervision over packs between students. Not that it mattered, after Diane's pack shattered, no one in the student body tolerated large packs again.

Not only was it a failing of the school administration to catch it, it was a failing of the local police department. Some in the media even laid the blame to the all human police force for this.

As if having Bio-Morph officers would've stopped it.

I'd rather think it just wasn't on their radar, I mean the only similar event to this happened over two hundred years ago between Kansas and Missouri In the United States before and during the first civil war. Where the citizenry of each side raided the other, one to sell blacks into slavery, the other to free them.

No one thought this would happen now, yet as they say history repeats and rhymes.

So for the rest of the year, at most only two thirds of the Bio-Morph student body who attended before what happened, returned once the school got a new paint job and new carpets.

What surprised me most though, was for most of the rest of my junior year. I was considered a hero by those who returned, just for running to get help. Only for it to fade after heat season and winter break. Signaling the start of my senior year when we returned in January.

Speaking of heat season. That's a term made by the student body for us girls. How during the fall, groups of us just up and are off for about a week as we deal with our body's demanding to be filled with pups. Just as predicted by the federal official when I woke up in Canada after escaping, and Ms. Henderson when we talked about it, my first heat off of suppressants was hell to everyone involved.

Thinking back, it was just a blur of a constant need. From what everyone at home said, they had to keep Patrick and his dad away from my door or I'd try to open it to get at them. Mom, Christine, and even Patrick won't tell me if they recorded anything I said during it.

I'm sure they did.

There was somewhat of a silver lining after the event, if you want to look at it as such. The school board stopped being paralyzed with fear from people like Ms Alice. Either that or they used the event to get rid of her. Either way, for the rest of my junior year we had to cram a whole year's worth of English and French into only a few months.

Of course, I can't speak French, but I won't be lost if I go to the French part of Canada now.

It took about a month for both Christine to stop fretting over me, and for the stump, which is now my left arm to heal enough to have the artificial arm base installed. Followed by a sleek feminine shaped artificial arm and hand.

They didn't have one with fur, which wasn't appalling to look at or smell. So I opted just for bare protective metal.

Valerio didn't tell me that I would be limited in sensation in the new arm though. I can sense if the hand is touching anything, feel if it is hot or cold, but that's about it.

Only the hand is sensitive in those regards, the rest of the arm isn't, so I continue to feel as if my arm is there just about every morning. Only to see the new one, causing those phantom limb sensations to disappear.

I've grown to like the arm though, taken to painting the protective paneling with different colors and styles every so often.

Today? It's painted in a two-tone style following the shape of the panels and plates with colors matching my fur, and annoyingly my dress. Yea I'm forced to wear a dress for what we're attending, as I stare out the window of mother's car.

The one-year anniversary of the raid, halfway through my senior year, which just so happens to be Diane's sentencing date after a media shit-storm trial.

This one is just a simple affair, with that stupid purse because a dress can't have pockets... Yet it's what is required for the dress code to attend the sentencing. No casual clothing for court, it disrespects the judge supposedly.

Mom has the car park in the visitor's lot for the Provence's municipal court building. It's only mother and I as Christine refused to come, having long since decided not to give Diane any more attention.

I felt I had to come. If simply to help support Anthony, my dad. Who just pulled up and parks next to us as we exit the car.

"Anthony, you don't have to be here. You don't have watch this." Mom shoulders her purse and walks over to him. I follow her and after mom gives him a pat on the shoulder, I give him a hug around his waist. I've grown a few inches but I'm still to damn short.

He pats my head for a moment.

"I have to. She may have disappointed me, forced me to remove her from my will. Yet, I am still her father, and always will be. I want to see this." He's wearing a casual suit and straightens it a bit after I let go.

"How's your arm Jackie?" I hold it up, only a slight tremor runs through the arm, choosing just now to show up. It was behaving earlier today...

'It's been slowly getting better. Where's Xin?' Anthony sighs.

"At the doctors. She's been having abdominal cramps and is getting some tests done to see what it is, so she couldn't come." I hope she gets better after hearing this.

"Let's get going, otherwise they'll close the doors before we get in." Mom nods to the courthouse before we follow her.

Of course, my artificial arm sets off the security, so they let me through after rummaging through my purse for about a minute. Mom's treated similarly due to her arm. Dad has to go as far as taking his shoes off before we can enter like some potential terrorist.

Once we're through security it's just a short trip up an elevator and down a hall to a main courtroom.

Our destination is obvious, we just have to follow the crowd of Bio-Morph families, some of which I recognize like the Weavers. I give them a polite wave and they wave back. Along with the media reporters who have turned this trial into a shit show.

All we have to do is have dad show his ID to the guards and for him to say Mom and I are his guests, we're then ushered into the courtroom and seated in the front row.

We're the only family of Diane's to show up, so it's just us in this row.

Neither the judge nor the jury are here yet. Diane in all her flof natural malt pattern and thick fur sits at the defense table, cuffed and chained to prevent her trying to run, wearing an orange prisoner jumpsuit is though.

She sits next to her state appointed lawyer, because dad refused to pay or help in her defense. The province prosecutors sit at another table on the other side of the court room.

Diane turns in her seat and seems to scan the crowd after the main doors close, we make eye contact with each other shortly after. What ever her reaction at seeing me is, it's stopped in its tracks by her lawyer insisting she sit back down and staying quiet.

A moment later, the elderly man, I recognize as the judge walks in. He'll go down in history as the man who presided over this trail and has become a household name.

Like the one who presided over O.J. Simpson's trial.

"All rise." Everyone stands. Even us in the audience.

"The honorable judge Simmons presiding." The Bailiff announces as the jury also files in and takes their seats. Due to the nature of the case, they pulled in enough Bio-Morphs to make up half the sitting jury.

More than one media outlet thinks this will make it so Diane gets acquitted. That tells me they don't understand us.

If the attitude of my fellow students is anything to go by, Diane's even less popular among Bio-Morphs than humans. After all, she tried to send the kids of people who fought to escape slavery, back into it.

"Everyone please sit." Simmons sits as we all sit back down before he bangs his gavel. For a few moments it looks like he's poking at a tablet or a touch screen before looking up at Diane, then the rest of the court.

"For the past six months, I have been presiding over one of the most infamous and influential cases of recent Canadian history. A trial, which tested case law, but the legislative laws regarding Bio-Morphs lacked clarity on the matter to guide me. One week ago, when we adjourned for the jury to deliberate, I stated that I wished this case could've been tried under the new laws your actions, Ms. Diane Cobbler, inspired into creation two months ago. For it would've stopped the media circus this case has become. The news coverage alone for the past two days has cemented my view about that." Simmons glares at the news media present, then turns to the jury.

I think he's referring to the non-stop coverage of each possible verdict and what it would mean to the growing Bio-Morph population.

"People of the jury. What is your verdict?" An elderly human woman. Most likely in her eighties, stands while holding a tablet in front of her.

"We the jury..." her voice is strong though despite the pause. "Find one Diane Cobbler, guilty, on the charge of level one Grand Larceny in steed of the dozens of extortion and theft charges from individuals." Foregone conclusion. My testimony along with over thirty other Bio-morphs, fellow students and former pack-mates sealed this. Even with the month-long discussion over if they should lump them all into one charge or not.

Reaching past my mother I take my dad's trembling hand. I'm just glad he's sitting on the side with my natural arm, so I can rub my paw pads on the back of his hand.

Diane doesn't seem phased about this verdict. Probably expected to be convicted of this.

"We the jury." The old lady pauses again, now on purpose I think. "Are deadlocked in the decision to either convict one Diane Cobbler on the charge of level two Grand Larceny, or not." The media, as I expected if she got off on a charge, goes wild.

Flashes from cameras fill the room as they try to get words from those in attendance for their opinion.

Level one is for when people extort large sums of cash and or material goods from other people, level two is when this happens with companies, charities, and the like.

This was the shakiest charge against Diane to be honest, as she didn't technically do it, just extort the money from her pack mates and then bought things with said stolen money.

The companies that joined in on the suit got their money for the products and services, which is what sunk the charge in my honest opinion.

The old human woman juror waits for everyone in the audience to calm down, even as Diane wags her tail once at the news. You shouldn't be celebrating just yet Diane, the worst charges levied against you are yet to come.

"We the jury, find one Diane Cobbler... Guilty of providing material aid to terrorists in the first degree, and guilty of the associated charge of human trafficking." The flashes and the eruption of the media forces Simmons to bang his gavel multiple times till all is quiet. For the past day they were claiming the Bio-Morph jurors would get her off on that charge.

Claiming 'we' stick together because we're tuned to do so.

Dad tightly squeezes my hand even though this was a foregone conclusion due to the same eyewitnesses. I return the favor knowing it must've been a stab in the heart for him regardless.

If Simmons decides similarly to the judge that presided over Flint's televised trial, Diane is going to jail for a long time. I'm not heartless, so I do feel just a tiny bit sorry for this.

Still, she brought this on herself.

"Ms. Diane Cobbler, you have been found guilty of three out of the four charges this province has laid against you. Taking into account you were a minor at the time of perpetrating your crimes, and some discussion with your family, of their own accord." Glancing at Dad, and he gives a weak smile when we hear this.

"I will not follow the minimum sentencing guidelines." Diane slacks her shoulders and wags her tail once, it doesn't make the judge happy though.

"That doesn't mean you're getting of easy Ms. Cobbler! So considering time served for the past year in holding. I hereby sentence you too... Seven years in medium security prison with time served, on the count of level one grand larceny. This will be served first, and you have no possibility of parole on this part of your sentence." Diane's tail and ears droop.

Why are you surprised Diane? You earned this.

"As for the charges of material aid to terrorists and human trafficking. To an adult, or a minor with proved malicious intent. Both would convey life sentences with possibility of parole after fifteen years at the earliest. While guilty, I view your aid in the event wasn't enough to prove malicious intent, thus you will not get two life sentences, mainly due to their betrayal and your limited role. So, I hereby sentence you to a combined eight years for both charges. Only starting after your first seven, with a possibility of parole after the first four years. To be served in the same penitentiary as your first sentence." With that he strikes his gavel and for the third time the media erupts.

Yelling various questions to both the Judge and Diane over the verdicts. All are ignored by the court personnel.

As for Diane herself, as she's lifted to her feet by the bailiff, having lost the ability to stand. She turns to look at me, mom, and dad. With a pleading look in her eyes, as if we can somehow stop this. Something crumbles in me when our eyes meet again, and I look away in shame. Dad tries, and fails to hold back a sob as Diane's led out of the court room to start serving her sentence in Winnipeg General penitentiary.

The media quickly leaves once Diane has been escorted out of the room considering she was the focus, followed by the audience a moment later.

Standing With Mom and Anthony, I move around her and look up at Dad with a reassuring smile.

"Diane got... Less, than I expected, but still a long time." Anthony mutters and shakes his head.

After the crowd thins out, Mom and I help Anthony by walking on either side of him all the way out of the courthouse and to the parking lot. Only when we reach his car does he break down to a full on crying fit into Mother's shoulder. Mom and I just gently pat him on his back for several minutes as he lets loose.

As a guy I didn't know how to deal with this, and I still don't. So I do what I can beyond patting him on the back.

I knew automated cars could do this, but it's the first time I've seen it used. After Mom and I gently move Anthony into the back seat of Mom's car. We've decided he's in no state to be left alone. She uses Dad's keys to get in and then sets his car to return to his house, without a passenger.

Only after it leaves do we get in Mom's car. It's a quick decision for me to sit in the back seat with Dad. Mother sits down in the driver seat and directs her car to return home.

'It'll be okay dad...' Leaning against him I nuzzle his chest to comfort him. He only idly pets my head as I do so.

'Hopefully, this will straighten Diane out, and she can get out in the eleven years when she has her first chance of parole.' Rubbing some tears from his eyes, Anthony looks down at me.

"That still is a long time to wait Jackie. I don't even know if I want to visit her every six months like I heard I might be allowed to if she's treated like a normal prisoner." He sighs.

"I just don't know what to think, for example, where I went wrong. What I did to cause this? Yet, I thank you and Maria for being here for me, I couldn't have faced this alone." Smiling back at him.

'I'll do what I can to help you and Xin. Now I have you back Dad, I don't want you going anywhere and Xin's grown on me.' Anthony ruffles the fur on my head a bit, but I don't protest.

"If it's any help Anthony, from our break-up I learned it's not a good idea to focus on where you went wrong. Focus on considering if you forgive her for what she did, then go from there." Anthony sighs.

"That may be a bit hard Maria, if Diane got her way. I would've lost my Son turned Daughter again. I don't know if I can forgive her for that right now." She almost cost me Christine, my sister and beta.

I refuse to say it, but I don't know if I can forgive her for that. Still, just thinking about that brings up how Diane looked as they took her out of the court room.

What I do realize now is she's a bit more of a person than I thought she was. There is a part of her that is suffering, even if it's her own fault.