Light dappled through the trees in the family courtyard, painting shadows on the paving stones. Li Reiko knelt by her son to look at his scraped knee. "I just scratched it." Nawi squirmed under her hands. Her daughter, Aya, leaned over her shoulder studying the healing. "Maybe Mama will show you her armor after she heals you." Nawi stopped wiggling. "Really?" Reiko shot Aya a warning look, but her little boy's dark eyes shone with excitement. Reiko smiled. "Really." What did tradition matter? "Now let me heal your knee." She laid her hand on the shallow wound. "Ow." "Shush." Reiko closed her eyes and rose in the dark space within her mind. In her mind's eye, Reiko took her time with the ritual, knowing it took less time than it appeared. In a heartbeat, green fire flared out to the walls of her mind. She dissolved into it as she focused on healing her son. When the wound closed beneath her hand, she sank to the surface of her mind. "There." She tousled Nawi's hair. "That wasn't bad, was it?" "It tickled." He wrinkled his nose. "Will you show me your armor now?" She sighed. She should not encourage his interest in the martial arts. His work would be with the histories that men kept, and yet... "Watch." Pulling the smooth black surface out of the ether, she manifested her armor. It sheathed her like silence in the night. Aya watched with obvious anticipation for the day when she earned her own armor. Nawi's face, full of sharp yearning for something he would never have, cut Reiko's heart like a new blade. "Can I see your sword?" She let her armor vanish back into thought. "No." Reiko brushed his hair from his eyes. "It's my turn to hide, right?" Question: Reiko showed Nawi her armor: Options: A. before healing his knee B. not enough information C. right away when Nawi asked D. after healing his knee === The correct answer is
A

Two signatures. That's all that's needed to force a wide-ranging House debate and votes on border security and the immigration status of 700,000 undocumented young people brought to the U.S. as children. Since moderate Republicans opposed House leadership two weeks ago with a rare discharge petition to force a so-called "queen of the hill" debate (House rule based on the most votes) on immigration, the measure has steadily accumulated support within their own party. The petition needs 218 signatures to start that debate and with the assumption that all 193 House Democrats will sign on Republicans need just two more signatures. But that effort now goes on hold as Congress leaves town for an 11-day holiday recess, giving all sides breathing room to figure out what comes next. Many of the 23 Republican signers of the petition face tough re-election races in their districts this November. The debate over Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) recipients has challenged lawmakers since last September, when U.S. President Donald Trump ended the program, calling on Congress to find a permanent legislative solution. Lawmakers will return to Washington facing an immediate deadline. Representative Jeff Denham, a California Republican who is one of the leaders of the petition effort, told reporters that June 7 would be the absolute last moment to allow the petition to mature before lawmakers run up against a seven-week summer recess. Denham said talks with House leadership and the House Freedom Caucus, a conservative voting bloc seeking significant security concessions in return for a citizenship path for DACA recipients, have been productive. "We've had an agreement in principle," Denham said of a deal that would provide a 12-year path to citizenship for DACA recipients, known colloquially as Dreamers. "Now it's trying to put that information on paper. So, assuming we can continue to move forward, that is something we would bring to our conference on the 7th when we have our two-hour immigration meeting,... Question: What topic do moderate Republicans want to debate? Options: A. Summer Recess B. not enough information C. the President D. immigration === The correct answer is
D

Q: The doctors told me I would be placed on a seventy-two hour hold for observation. Knowing this was the only way out, I obeyed and diligently signed all the papers. I hated my parents but still felt the inescapable drive to prove to them that I was worth something. I had to show them I wasn't crazy. As the hours passed, I was shown to a blank room with plastic sheets and plastic pillows, which caused me to wonder what kind of distant confused souls had been imprisoned in this sterile place. There were bars on the windows and the only door out of the unit was locked 24/7. I knew my only refuge for the time being would be through the hour a day art therapy class and the smoke breaks I could take at will. They had given me a legal pad after my parents had told them of my affinity for writing. With it I set to work on the flow of words and the river of thoughts, both dark and hopeful that careened through my tired mind. Instead of sleep, I would write. I expressed my vicious frustration for the place and thought constantly of the passing hours, counting them down as they went. Because of this I was thankful for the eight to ten I would use up easily in my escapes to the world behind my eyelids. There I was free and could experience a life unhindered by limitations of ethics or gravity. When I'd awake I'd write what I could remember of my escapes on the obtrusive legal pad. I had the suspicion that the attendants would come in and read my thoughts as I was eating meals or watching TV and I wondered if this was hindering my ability to get out. I wondered what kind of opinions and judgments they were forming about me. I had bared my soul on those pages explaining desperately how the thoughts would not leave even in this place, where it mattered most that they were gone. The fuckers would never leave. Maybe I was crazy. Question: At the end of the story, we can conclude the narrator was placed in there by: Options: A. His parents B. His friends C. not enough information D. The attendants === The correct answer is
A: A