(DISCLAIMER! This chapter is not meant to offend people in the American South, the African-American race (who are the sweetest people I've ever met), or diss the Republican Party in any way. It is only meant for the story. If I do offend you, please tell me how and I'll try to fix the chapter accordingly. Btw, this chapter will leave you going "Wtf Katherine.")

Well, I'd like to take a moment to say that for the record, I don't think I've ever been more of a screw-up in my life than on the night of the Winter's Ball.

(I'll blame it all on the alcohol, like I always did.)

The atmosphere was festive enough and it was nice to have it at the Schuylers' house, but the problem took place when the soldiers came in.

I patted down my hair frustratedly, trying to keep it from becoming frizzy in the dry, cold air of December. "I look ridiculous. Should I really be going there, Angelica? I'm just a nurse."

Dressed in a flowing green gown, black high heels and hair that didn't cooperate in the slightest, I frowned in the mirror.

"Relax," Angelica said in a clipped, exhausted tone. "Must you worry about being a nurse right now? The purpose for the party, after all, is to forget about the war. Follow the soldiers' example—they will be treated like common civilians. Even the General won't be receiving as much high regard here as on the battlefield, I've heard!"

I supposed she was a little tired from having to look her absolute best, so I stayed quiet and didn't bother her further.

Two hours later, the first guests trickled in. Angelica immediately glided over to them and struck up a conversation. Half an hour later, the party was nearly in full swing.

Ten minutes later, the soldiers arrived.

The first to walk in the door was General Washington. An awed hush filled the room, then the chatter rose again to its normal level.

Hamilton walked in, looking prouder and more relaxed than I had ever seen him. Lafayette and Hercules seemed to accentuate Hamilton's mood so it wouldn't be compromised by his height (or lack thereof).

John Laurens walked in, catching up to Hamilton and teasing him about the ladies. Peggy gasped and led him off to dance, and soon they were flinging themselves in bold circles in the middle of the ballroom.

Laughing, I walked over to the table and fixed myself a tall glass of wine. Taking a deep breath and staring at the rich red liquid, I downed the glass in two gulps. Several people gave me dirty looks as I quickly set the glass down, smiling sheepishly.

I didn't want to stop after one glass. So, I downed three more, losing my dignity with every drop.

I suddenly noticed Aaron Burr watching the party with an amused look. I strolled up to him. "Hello!" I roared. "How are you, my good sir? My fine fellow? My clever consort?"

He played along, and suddenly we were throwing Shakespearean stanzas at each other. He forced a laugh when I bit my thumb at him—the worst kind of insult.

Poor guy.

"If we should fail?" I cried, leaning against him. He gently pushed me off, to which I paid no mind.

"But screw your courage to the sticking-place, and we'll not—" Burr was cut off by a hand on his shoulder. He whirled around. "Laurens."

"Burr!" John smiled, but it was more strained than relaxed. "May I steal Katherine for a moment? A quick word, that's all."

"Yes, you may!" I shook Burr's hand violently and ran off to a corner.

Behind me, I heard John whisper, "Burr, I know you're hiding something. You should tell me and my friends!"

"I should go," he replied awkwardly.

"Well, I'll see to it that you reveal your secret later. For now..." John smiled at Burr and walked to the corner where I stood, pretending to swoon over Burr's retreating figure.

John abruptly came close and pressed something—a cold, metal something—hurriedly into my hand. "What is this?" He hissed.

"What is whaaaat?!"

"This coin!"

And he held up a US quarter. "This isn't our currency."

"Well, what is it?" I asked dumbly. I snatched the coin from his hand and stared at the eagle and the face. "'In God We Trust...'"

Unfortunately, the wine I drank was strong enough to keep me going throughout the fight. My eyes registered the coin with a glazed-over look. "What the hell?"

"You gave it to me when you paid for your coffee."

"What coffee?"

"That's not the point!" John snapped. "How did you get this? Is it from another country? Was it illegally made? A token of sorts?"

"Why do you still have it?!"

"Does that really matter?"

There was a hard silence. Then John said curtly:

"We're going to find out who you are."

"Who?"

"Mulligan, Lafayette, Hamilton and I."

"Oh yeah, and I bet you won't accept me because you were born in the South!" I spat.

Another silence. We glared at each other.

John pointed at the face on the quarter. "Who's this?"

I stared at him, then suddenly gave a harsh, sardonic laugh. "Were you born yesterday? That's George Washington."

John's face went from red to pale, pale white. "That's not possible. He looks nothing like this man."

"Well, yeah. Last time I checked, George Washington—"

"That's the General to you!"

"—Wasn't black. As far as I can remember, you all were a bunch of racist white people!" I nearly yelled.

We didn't speak for a while. John murmured, "I'm sorry, but it appears as though you must educate me on what the word 'racist' means."

"No—John—I'm so sorry—"

"What does it mean?"

I clutched onto the coin for support. "It-It means... prejudiced... biased against people who don't have the same skin color as you."

And the drunkenness completely wore off by now.

John straightened, standing tall over me even though he was my height. "I see how it is."

I backed away, scared out of my mind. "No! What I meant was—the alcohol—I forgot—"

"Everyone forgets what they say when they're intoxicated, Katherine. But this—prejudiced white people? Your problem is that you don't accept people for who they really are! So what if the General is dark-skinned? All the better, I'd say! At least I know he'd help me free the slaves, unlike you!" His voice rose with every sentence.

I stood there in shock as Laurens stalked away and out of the house. Shakily, I looked at the coin, tears stinging my eyes.

What have I done?