Indiana Zuki lived in a world where at some age in your life, you would get a symbol on your hand.

The symbol decided your living status, and what you were meant to be.

If you got a star, you would be treated as high class. No one would disturb you when you told them not to, and you would have a few servants to help with all of your tiring work. You would also get loads more money than you already had.

If you got a triangle, you would be in middle class. You got an average amount of money, and would be living an okay life. Not as wealthy, but still nice.

Then, the lowest mark would be a circle, and if that happened, if you had money, most of it would get taken away. If you had jewelry, it would be snatched.

Indiana was really hoping she wouldn't get a circle. Her heart prayed, and prayed each and every day before she went to sleep.

One day, her family got an invitation to a party. The tradition for the Zukis' was that every time something special happened, they would get to celebrate. This time, it was that her aunt Rosy had braved zip lining.

Sighing, Indiana swept her chocolate brown hair into a braid, and blinked her amber eyes. It would be a long day.

After the party, it was eleven thirty at night.

But the next morning, when Indiana woke up, the back of her hand shone with a bold symbol.