Chapter 1

I bit my lip as I closed the last book in my favorite series, Supernatural, by Carver Edlund. I couldn't believe it. Dean, my favorite character, couldn't die and go to hell. I took a deep breath and then rushed over to my computer to see if there were going to be anymore books. I googled the author and pulled up the official page for the book series. This series has stopped publishing after the book, "There is no Rest for the Wicked". I looked down. That was the title of the book I had just finished. I kept reading. This is because there was not enough profit off of these books to continue. Sorry for the Inconvenience. "Sorry for the Inconvenience?" I yelled at my computer. "Yeah, sure you're sorry. You don't have to worry about Dean down in hell and how he is going to get out. And he is GOING to get out. Don't you worry. Sam will find a way to save him." I rolled my eyes and collapsed on my bed. This was awful. How was I ever going to find out what happened next if they stopped publishing?

There was a knock on my door and my mom came in. "Amanda Reed, are you reading again?" I looked up at her. She was 30 and beautiful with shoulder length blond hair. She had had me at 16 but she said that I was the best thing that ever happened to her. I smiled. We had a running joke about how our last name was Reed and I loved reading. The name seemed to suite me. "Come on downstairs. Dinner is ready."

"Ok mom." I got up and followed her down to our kitchen. She had made a pizza in the oven. I grabbed a piece and started eating.

"So, what was all that yelling about earlier? Did a character die?" she asked. My mom always tried to keep up with what I was interested in. I had gotten her to watch a few TV shows that I liked. She seemed to enjoy them, but not to the extent that I did. She just watched them to have something in common with me. "Yeah." I answered. "Dean did. He sold his soul to a demon and now he is in hell. Normally I wouldn't be worried about this, but I looked it up and the author, Carver Edlund, can't publish anymore because the publishers weren't making enough money off the books."

"Oh, that's awful! I'm so sorry honey." My mom looked at me, knowing how upset I must feel. The rest of dinner I theorized as to how Dean would have gotten out of hell if the next book did get published.

After dinner I flipped on the TV. One of my favorite shows was on, Doctor Who. I had seen this episode before. This was the part where The Doctor told Winfrey that he would have been proud to call him his dad. I could relate, having grown up with no dad myself. I had only seen on picture of him and my mom, but when I asked her about him, all she said was that his name was Dean and she didn't know much about him either. Maybe that was why I liked the character Dean in my book so much, he was how I wished my dad was. Also, sometimes when my mom thought I was busy reading or asleep, I saw her looking through an old box of papers. Sometimes she would stare at them longingly, or with sadness, or sometimes even anger. I had often wondered what was in that box.

"I'm going to the grocery store, Amanda. I'll be back in an hour or so. Okay?" My mom was standing at the door with her purse pulling on a jacket. I nodded showing her that was fine.

This would be my chance to go see what was in that box. I looked around the room trying to decided if I should I really look into my mom's personal things. I checked out the window just in time to see her driving around the corner. I dashed upstairs and into her room. Where would she hide a box like that. I searched through a few drawers and then checked her closet. There it was, up in the top corner. I reached up and just managed to pull it down. I walked over to her bed staring at it. What would I find in it? Pictures? A phone number? I took a deep breath and then opened the box. Like I expected there were more pictures of him. He wore a leather jacket and had dark hair. He was slightly taller then my mom, maybe about 6 feet. There was also a paper with some phone numbers on it. The first one said "Dean's cell." I grabbed my cell and dialed the number. A mechanical voice answered, "I am sorry. This number has been disconnected." I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding then looked back down at the paper. "Dean's dad's cell" was the only other number on the paper. I shrugged and dialed that number. I guess if Dean was my dad then his dad would be my grandfather.

After a few moments, which felt like hours, someone picked up. "Hello? Who is this?" It was a deep voice. He didn't sound old enough to be my grandfather.

"Hi." I said. "My name is Amanda Reed. Are you Dean's father?" I was so nervous that I must have sounded terrified to the person on the other end of the phone.

There was a pause. "No, this is Dean. I'm sorry to tell you this, but my father is dead." There was a commotion and it sounded like someone was asking who it was. I took a deep breath. So both my grandfathers were dead. But I was probably talking to my dad. "Why are you calling? How did you know my dad?"

"I . . ." I wondered what I should say. I wanted to meet my dad before telling him I was his daughter. "I have important information for you, Dean. I need you to meet me . . ." I thought again. Where could I have him meet me? "There is an abandoned house at the edge of my town." I gave him the address. "Meet me there at 9 tomorrow night." I said and then hung up.