Clara/Cyrus

It had only been twenty-five years since America had passed the Healthy and Perfect Child Act, or HAPCA. To millions of Americans, it felt as if over half a century had passed since those simpler days. Granted, disabled rights were hardly the norm prior to 2025, but it wasn't a crime to be disabled in any way. That all changed with the signing of HAPCA in the summer of that year, leading to families being ripped apart long before Christmas. Disabled adults were immediately "put of their misery" while disabled children were sent to institutions to be "corrected". Despite showing no mercy to disabled adults, the government felt the need to give children the chance to be "healthy and perfect". Even if you were a healthy blind child, you were ordered to be corrected until you were "perfect". Not a single child with a physical disability had the chance to survive in those prisons.

Neurodivergent children had a better chance of survival, but the possibilities were slim. Autistic children in particular often had the ability to "mask" in their DNA. Masking can be easier said than done, however, meaning that less than half of autistic children in institutions could fake their way to perfection. The chances of faking their way to adulthood were must slimmer, and their chances of dying from old age were sure to be non-existent. With only twenty-five years under HAPCA's belt, it was probably too soon to say if no autistic person would make it to old age. Then again, only about twenty percent of the American autistic population were confirmed to be over the age of twenty-one by 2050.

One of the few lucky ones, if you could even call them that, was a thirty-one-year-old woman born as Paula Ann Summers.

-

Paula Ann Summers was six years old when HAPCA was signed into law. One year later, her parents were demanded to have her tested, which resulted in her autism diagnosis. There was no time to explain anything to the seven-year-old before she was thrown into an institution over two hours away. She had already been an obedient child at home, so it didn't take her long to follow the rules of perfection. If a patient reached perfection by the age of eighteen, they were free to live in proper society. Even though she made it out, Paula didn't feel like she deserved it.

Despite being ordered not to, Paula began close friends with two children that the orderlies had labeled as "defects". This label was forced upon patients that were seen as unlikely to reach perfection. One of these "defects" was a girl with Down Syndrome named Clara, and Paula's autism made it easy for her to remember certain details about Clara like her fondness for hair ribbons. The other "defect" was a boy with cerebral palsy named Cyrus, whom Paula remembered as warm with a fondness for bears. Anytime she was caught speaking to them, she was whipped in front of everyone. No matter how hard it hurt, she insisted on sticking with her friends.

"It's no good sacrificing your freedom, Paula," Clara said a month about Paula's seventeenth birthday.

"I agree," Cyrus stated. "You are less than a year away from being released, and you have a scar thanks to the whip. You must stop speaking to us."

"I couldn't possibly do that," Paula softly wept.

"Don't worry about us," Clara assured her friend. "Set yourself free."

Thirteen years had passed since her release, and Paula still wished that she could've done more to save her friends. Not even a successful job as a magazine writer, a perfect marriage of four years, and a baby on the way could take away her guilt. The only thing she could do was at least name her future child after one of her friends. It was too early to know the baby's gender, but she was ready to put either Clara or Cyrus on the birth certificate.

-

The gender-reveal party was two days away, and Paula Grant couldn't have been more excited. She had just bought the ingredients to make cupcakes for the snack table, and she nearly ran a red light out of excitement on the way home. All she needed to do was bake the cupcakes and blow up the balloons, and everything would be perfect. Her smile must've lasted an hour until she reached her living room.

Paula's husband, David, was throwing as many items as he could into two suitcases. He must've been in such a hurry that he accidentally knocked over some of the decorations for the party. Even the "It's A Baby..." banner was dangling from the wall by one piece of tape.

"David," Paula said softly, "did something happen?"

"Yes, but I don't know how much time I have to explain," David replied with frantic breathing. "Please put that stuff down and get ready to leave. I've already grabbed your personal stuff like your meds and your perfume, so don't worry about that."

"David, please slow down and tell me what's happening."

"I can't!" David cried out as he threw a couple of shirts into Paula's suitcase. "Darling, I thought I could trust my colleagues, but that scumbag Lionel did some digging on you. He's been reading your articles with a close eye for the last five months, and he noticed that you have the tendency to write in a way that doesn't seem normal. Do you remember that article you wrote about that school that did nothing to help that student who was bullied to death?"

"Yes, I was quite proud of that one."

"So was I, Sweetie," he said with praise as he closed up the suitcases. "Unfortunately, Lionel thought that one of your final sentences was not normal. "If only their hearts could beat louder than their meaningless words." This was enough for him and his buddies to do some digging. Your parents tried their hardest to hide your past, but every institution in this country makes extra copies of their patient's reports. Luckily, one of Lionel's "buddies", Kevin, came to his senses and told me everything."

"Wasn't Kevin the one who went out and bought us a teddy bear the minute we announced my pregnancy?" Paula gleefully interrupted.

"Yes, that's him. Lionel wasn't going to tell me about his findings until after he had you locked up. Darling, why didn't you tell me that you were autistic?"

Paula dropped to the floor in tears. Her knight in shining armor lifted her up to her feet and escorted her out the door with her suitcase.

"I'm so sorry David," she gasped between sobs. "I've been trying so hard to be perfect since I was seven. I feared that you would leave me the minute I told you. Please answer me truthfully. Are you angry that your unborn child is certain to be autistic thanks to me?"

"Of course not!" David held his wife close. "I fear what could happen to our child once he or she is diagnosed. You know good and well what they could do to our child. I know that you had asked me to never bring it up again, but I must ask you about the scar on your back."

Paula flinched as she reached the bottom of their front steps. She took a deep breath before confessing.

"I know what you're going to ask, and the answer is yes. I received this scar from an institution. I was whipped repeatedly because I was friends with two patients that were labeled as "defects". Their names were Clara and Cyrus."

"So, that's why you wanted to use those names for our child!"

Just as Paula was about to answer, a car pulled up. She recognized it as the car that her dad had bought for her mom two years ago before his death. Without hesitation, she grabbed her bag and rushed to the car. Her smile reappeared when she saw her mom's gentle face at the wheel.

"Hey Pumpkin," Ms. Summers said with a grin. "Hop in."

"Wait, I left my suitcase inside," said David. "If anything happens, Ms. Summers, go without me. Paula, know that I love you."

Ms. Summers nodded as David ran back to the house. Before Paula could ask what her husband meant by his last two sentences, two armed vehicles charged down the street. Ms. Summers didn't even wait for them to park outside the house before stepping on the gas. Paula screamed as she saw David in the doorway one last time before the car turned around the corner.

"Mom! We have to go back for him!"

"Pumpkin, I understand that you often have a hard time doing this, but I need you to calm down and listen to me. Turn off your phone and don't message David at all. They could track you down that way. David couldn't use his car because it's a company car and they could track you that way, too."

"Why couldn't we have just used my car?"

"Honey, David and I both know that you have the tendency to run out your gas tank and forget to refill until the next day. Please listen. Kevin has informed me and David about Lionel's intention to expose your identity as an autistic woman and have your baby taken away. Your father and I have done all we can to protect you, and I'm not going to stop now. Your dad has even died for you."

"I thought it was an accident," Paula said in disbelief.

"Oh no, I forgot that I never told you. Look, I'll tell you as soon as we're out. Kevin knows someone who can fly us out to Canada."

"You mean you're coming with me?"

"I spent eleven years of your life without any contact. I'm never doing that again."

-

It was nearly pitch black as the plane flew over the Canadian border. Paula's hands fidgeted in her lap as she struggled to keep still. Normally, she'd use her phone as a way to stim, but she couldn't risk it. There was no knowing if the US government could have her sent back or not once she had reached Canada. She fished through her bag for any possible distractions. Her eyes mustered all of their strength to hold back her tears as she discovered her favorite bottle of perfume that David was kind enough to pack. She was normally picky when it came to scents, but David found the fragrance with the perfect balance of vanilla and jasmine for her to wear on their wedding day. Even when her fingers continued to fidget, she managed to spray a bit of perfume on her wrists. The glorious scent comforted her greatly.

After Paula had gently wrapped the bottle up in a shirt and placed it back in her suitcase, she discovered the teddy bear that Kevin had bought her to celebrate her pregnancy. She hardly saw Kevin, but he was a ball of sunshine every time he showed up. It was a shame that he had to stay behind, but the fact that he offered his private jet meant more than Paula could say. Besides, she felt a bit of hope that Kevin could find a way to save Adam. What on Earth could be happening to him at that moment? Did he manage to get away? Were they interrogating him? Was he...no, she couldn't think about that. Maybe the bear could be a good distraction.

The brown bear was large enough to take up Paula's upper torso. It was far too large for a baby, but it would be the perfect size once the baby was a toddler. The sight of the furry fella reminded Paula so much of her friends from the institution. Cyrus grew up near the Smokey Mountains and often saw bears, which is why he liked them so much. He could talk about them more than Paula could talk about her dreams of being a writer. The bear had a yellow ribbon tied around its neck because Kevin was too nice to assume the baby's gender and grab a blue or pink one. Clara loved ribbons. Paula would often try to find one for her friend, only for a cruel orderly to take it away by claiming that it was a "safety hazard". That old fart was too unobservant to know that Clara was one of the most careful patients in the building.

"Pumpkin?" Ms. Summers had just woken up from a brief snooze. "Is everything alright?"

If Paula hadn't lived in a society that threatened to destroy her for being too autistic, she would've been far more blunt in this situation. Granted, she wouldn't even be fleeing to Canada in the first place, but that was beside the point. She most likely would've asked why her mom would ask such a dumb question, or she would've asked if she had amnesia and had completely forgotten everything that had happened a couple of hours ago. Given how her husband was probably gone for good, the last thing that she wanted to be was calm. Still, her mother had taught her to know better before the age of seven, so she mustered up her last bit of energy to hold it together.

"Mom," she said hoarsely, "you said that Dad died for me. I thought it was a car accident. What happened?"

"Oh, Pumpkin," her mom sighed. "Your dad texted me that a coworker was blackmailing him because she had somehow managed to find out about your autism. He wouldn't explain how she knew, but he said that he would take care of everything. She demanded that he drive her home while her car was in the shop. It was raining heavily that day, so it looked like he just accidentally swerved off the road. It was noted by the police that she died minutes before he did. Knowing your dad, I think he did it on purpose."

"But why would he do such a thing?"

"We never told you this, but your dad went numb when you were taken away. We were told to just replace you with another baby, but he once responded by chucking a potted plant at someone's car. He would go silent for weeks, have a small conversation, and then go without speaking for another few weeks. When you were diagnosed, he said, "So what? She's already perfect." Paula, I don't know what is going to happen, but this baby is a clear sign of hope. I am willing to do anything to help you and Clara or Cyrus."

"Oh," Paula whispered, "I was supposed to get the results this weekend."

"I'll throw you a new gender reveal party later. What are you hoping for? A Clara or a Cyrus?"

Paula gently touched her belly and answered, "I just want this baby to have an actual future. The name and gender mean no difference to me."