To be honest, some of us had seen it coming. Some of us had heard our parents in the other room talking in hushed tones about x or y who had just stopped coming in to work. About q who had hidden out for months in her basement knitting quilt squares in different shades of blue. Some of us had seen our parents, almost asleep at the wheel, hands raw from work, begging for something better.

You couldn’t talk about the test. It’s questions, length, content were all considered classified information. Speaking of the test would result in heavy fines, or even jail time. Yet, some of us saw it coming. Maybe not that the test Needed fixing but that something did. That some piece of order had been shifted imperceptibly and things no longer eased into place the way they should.

I hadn’t thought I’d get anything interesting. The kg questions surprised me. I had studied what we had been taught in school mostly, and had been ill prepared. When I finished the machine whirred to life and out sputtered a receipt, smaller than my hand and printed in navy ink- test maker.

At first I thought it was routine. After all the test had been around for years, surely the questions were changed to account for Inter familial cheating and nepotism. Then the news hit. For a week some variation was the headline of the newspaper- test to change. It was published that a recent taker had been given the task, but my identity was kept a secret.

I told my parents, hoping for something like pride as a response. Instead, a look passed between them darker than I expected. My mom looked at me, softening her eyes. “Whatever you do, this time make it fair” she finally said.