Chapter One

May 5, 2309-1:23p.m.

THE WORLD—PLANET Earth—has just recovered from the longest, hardest depression known to Earth's grandchildren as the Second Dark Ages.

"In the twenty-first century, a series of cruel, unjust leaders rose into power all over the world. The United States of America seemed to be the only nation left standing at the end of it all.

"The countries that got the brunt of the attack, it seemed, were Ireland, Germany, Wales, England, Italy, and a few parts of South America. The reason, of course, was that they had the worst leaders.

"A man by the name of Zoltan György gained power in 2056 and took over most of Europe. He was born and raised in Hungary by a step uncle, also the town drunk. He mistreated Zoltan and turned him into a hard adult who sought out power and death.

"He was able to conquer some of Asia before his violent, unexpected death in 2079—just before his fifty-seventh birthday. He was inside his home when a powerful earthquake occurred. He fell along with one of his prized busts of himself. It crashed on his head killing him instantly. After that, the people of Europe fell into a state of utter anarchy.

"Europe's economy plummeted. Its people went bankrupt and many were forced to sell everything they owned in order to survive. They lived on the streets begging or stealing from those few who had something left.

"People stopped keeping records of names, dates, and places, leaving new generations no way to keep up with their ancestors and their doings. Historians today have no chronicles of human living during the Second Dark Ages except for few remnants and traces of footprints left in the well-treaded sand.

"It seemed that the balance of nature itself was affected by all the chaos and destruction and the state that the world was in. Extreme earthquakes, flooding, and all manner of natural disasters broke out for one hundred and twenty years, long after the cruel dictator, Zoltan György, was dead."

At that moment, Aeron called on someone else to finish reading the last chapter in her textbook which she had started. She was so sick of world history. What did history matter anyway? Who cared what happened three hundred years ago? All history is, was, and will ever be about is depressing crap that no one cares to know or memorize.

The textbooks were always so boring and pallid without any emotion and always had one point of view that you had to believe or you would fail the every-two-week-test. They droned on and on, and it pained her to read it out loud. World history was the only class that still used textbooks instead of the holographic screens that were given out for the purpose of saving trees so that paper would not be 'wasted' in the process of textbook making.

They probably did that to preserve some part of the old days when all the textbooks in schools were actually books and not presented on the screens that would materialize in front of them. It was the whole idea of sustaining history, she guessed. That was the thing that bothered her. But any time she was present in the class, Mr. Spinelli always called on her to read, probably to give her some chance to catch up with the rest of the class.

Aeron had skipped this class so many times it felt weird to be sitting in her usual seat. Most of the time, she didn't turn in her homework, didn't listen to lectures, and most certainly didn't pass tests. She would no doubt have to take a summer class to pass this grade. And she would skip that too.

She smiled at the thought. It wasn't a happy smile or even an amused smile. It was sinister—evil almost. She shook it off when Mr. Spinelli started eying her. She paid him no attention but looked at her blank piece of paper where she was supposed to be taking notes. Her textbook was still open on the page where she had stopped reading; she hadn't bothered to keep up with whoever it was she had called on.

For some reason, she had the strange impulse to catch up to him or her or it. She started frantically flipping pages until she was reading the words in sync with Drake's voice.

Drake. That's who it was. His voice was loud and clear, despite his enclosed form. She couldn't even see his face because of his long, deep black hair that swept over it, brushing his shoulders ever so lightly.

She hated him. He tended to hang out with her group of friends even though he was completely unwelcome. No one ever invited him to any of their gatherings, but he was always there. Though he was present, he never participated in their usual boring conversations that had no point whatsoever.

They were mostly debates about which hard rock/metal band played the best music. That was all their life was about: music about suicide and death and destruction. Somehow, that made their lives more bearable.

Not that it mattered what they talked about. Drake was not welcome, and they made a point to tell him. He was always falsely accused of awful things. If Aeron's own hate for him wasn't so strong, she would have protested their accusations. She would have stood up for anyone else. But Drake was different, and she somehow managed to justify her actions by telling herself that he was the one who put himself in the situation and that she couldn't help what he did. It was true. She wasn't his keeper.

And if all that wasn't bad enough, he was filthy rich. She heard once that his dad struck oil in some place down in Texas or something like that. But he lived in a humongous house for just him and his dad and he drove the most expensive cars.

She knew that he knew she was staring at him. She always knew that he knew when he looked just out of the corner of his eye and saw her burning holes into the back of his head. He smiled to himself as he knew that she was watching.

That made her hate for him even more intense. Her cheeks grew hot and her stomach lurched. She had to be out of this room. It was making her dizzy, and Drake wasn't helping her at all.

He started reading again.

"Before Zoltan died, he married. There was an issue of royal blood. The dictator's wife had none. Because of the lack of record keeping, historians still do not know who she was or why they were married at all, but they do know that she gave György three sons and, some believe, two daughters.

"After their father died, the three brothers sought out power and fought for the throne. The eldest son was killed by the second born, and the second was killed by the third, who also was not successful in taking the throne because of his imprisonment for the murder of his brother.

"The murdering of the two princes began the age of thirst for power and lust for worldly possessions such as food, money, and people. Sons killed fathers for leadership over the family and their inheritance; mothers killed sons for their sins committed against their fathers.

"Because Europe declined in power, trade, economy, and importance to the world in general, the rest of the world slowly began to fall with it.

"For two hundred and twenty years, the world suffered the worst Dark Ages it had ever seen. People not only murdered each other uncontrollably, but they lost interest in the arts and other things that had made the world so sophisticated compared to the years when humans lived so barbarically on the earth.

"Fortunately, the US was spared, and rising from it, came a great leader who saved our government and economy, Malaci Decorr.

"The New World government and its leaders have introduced to us a new way of living and a new way to be human and have saved us from utter chaos. It has brought us into the world we know today that is safer and friendlier than any other we have known before."

Drake's reading stopped.

Mr. Spinelli looked up from his own book. "Okay, let's discuss." He stood in front of the room looking around it for hands. "Catelynne?" He called on her.

She looked up half asleep and stared at him like he was nuts.

"Would you care to discuss?" He questioned prodding her.

"Um…" She looked around trying to collect her bearings. "I don't know."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." He shook his head. "Let me bestow upon you some knowledge then, shall I?" He said in his most condescending tone. "Was…Zoltan…a bad…man?" He wrote on the chalkboard. "Awe, Catelynne! I know you want to shed some light on our discussion today."

"Um…he was bad obviously." She looked around the room for approval. "Right? That's…that's what it says in the book isn't it? Is this gonna be on the test, Mr. Spinelli?"

He laughed but didn't respond to the question. "Is that your reasoning for all of your opinions? Becausee the text book says so? Come on guys; let's get a real discussion going. Anyone? Stephanie?"

Stephanie beamed at this. She loved to speak. It was her talent, and she loved to show off how well she could do it. "Well, he was bad. But that was because his step uncle was mean to him. Wasn't he really, really evil after that? It was his uncle's fault." She looked proud of herself. Too bad she was always so concerned with what her voice sounded like that she couldn't take time to consider her words. Why couldn't she at least try to sound intelligent?

Mr. Spinelli shook his head. "What is your reasoning? Oh, wait; let me guess, the textbook said so?" Stephanie looked embarrassed and not as arrogant as before. Aeron smiled at her failure to answer her teacher's question.

"Okay, let's try this again. Nash? Olivia? Taban?" None of them wanted to participate. "Aeron." This time there was no question in Mr. Spinelli's voice.

She sighed. "He was good." She didn't hesitate like the others knowing that was the answer he wanted.

"Why do you say that?" He wouldn't rest until everyone was involved.

"I don't know. Because, well, maybe the textbook's wrong." She offered reluctantly.

"Hm, interesting theory." He held up his hand. "New discussion. Could…the textbooks…we read…be wrong?" He wrote on the board and then looked back at her. "Aeron. Since you presented us with this idea, why don't you share your opinion?"

She sighed again—louder this time. "I guess, well, maybe historians are lying to us. I mean, we weren't there. How can we know? How can we know the textbooks are real facts?" Her own words made her think. "Maybe they're wrong…maybe it's…a conspiracy."

Several people groaned at the last word. They had had the conspiracy discussion many times before. There was always one nut bird in every crowd that was always babbling about some new conspiracy the New World government was plotting. No one liked those kinds of people. Aeron didn't like being the nut bird.

But, in all honesty, those people could very well be right. Even if some of their ideas were a bit extreme, could there be some truth in their supposedly crazy words?

"Okay, okay." Mr. Spinelli held his hand up to quiet the students. "Though Miss Charleson may be wrong, it is an interesting thought to entertain. Now, does anyone oppose?"

Stephanie raised her hand only to argue with Aeron, but she wasn't going to be pulled in. She had already planned on leaving the minute Mr. Spinelli called on her to read.

Aeron raised her own hand high just as Stephanie began to speak. Mr. Spinelli ignored her completely even though he could plainly see her hand up.

"Mr. Spinelli," She asked loudly interrupting another one of Stephanie's poorly cited theories, "Can I go to the nurse? I don't feel good." She said in her best pitiful voice. She held her stomach and coughed for extra effect.

He nodded quickly waving her away. He knew as well as she that she would not be back.

She could decide if he liked her later, just as she's wondering if she likes him. Sometimes, he took the time to work with her or even talk to her, trying desperately to get her to talk to him like so many teachers had. Other times, she felt like she was just in his way. But it didn't matter because she wasn't sure whether she liked him or not. Most of the time she couldn't wait until the bell rang or she skipped altogether.

But, on occasion, she felt like he cared more about her than her so-called friends.

Just as she was darting out of the room, Drake caught her eye and winked. Her stomach lurched again, and she felt like she couldn't stand. She ran out of the room as fast as she could and despite herself, skipped seeing the nurse.

Aeron instantly felt better after leaving the class room. She could never tell what made her feel worse: the world history or Drake's occasional glances. She had to go by her house to pick up a few things.

It wasn't really a house. It was more like a trailer in a trailer park. Actually, it was a trailer in a trailer park. Nathan had lived in it practically all his adult life. She and Quetzy didn't live there by choice, but it was the only place they had left.

It wasn't living in a trailer or a park that bothered Aeron. It was that her particular trailer park had several people who didn't look like people she would want to hang out with. It wasn't that she somehow thought she was above them or that they were worth less than her; they just gave her the creeps. And then there was the issue of living with Nathan.

Aeron despised Nathan more than any other person in the world—even more than Drake, if that was possible. Not because of his dead-end job that he rarely ever went to (it was a wonder he hadn't been fired yet), not because of his ugly, trashy house, but because of his unruly friends.

They lived at the trailer as much as Nathan did. They were there all night playing poker, drinking cheap beer, and smoking cigarettes. Then they left all their garbage—empty beer cans and cigarette buds—laying around for Aeron to clean up. She didn't mind so much for herself. It was Quetzy that she was worried about. If that was what she would remember her childhood as being, she didn't want to think of the person she might grow up to be.

But Quetzy wasn't that kind of kid. She was stronger than that. Aeron was sure she got that from their mother. Nevertheless, she tried not to think about it.

She pulled out of the school parking lot in her beat-up excuse for a car and sped away the direction of the trailer park.

The drive wasn't long. The park wasn't far from the high school so Nathan wouldn't have to pay out-of-district fees. It was on days like this very one that made Aeron hate living so close to the school. She wouldn't mind going for a nice, quiet drive for a little while just to think about nothing.

Thankfully most of the people that lived at the trailer park worked during the day. This way, she wouldn't have to stop and get into some conversation about the weather with someone. Unfortunately, the scary ones didn't work at all. They lived on government grants and scared the crap out of Aeron. She never let Quetzy play outside alone, even when they weren't home.

They hung around outside, waiting on their buddies to give them a ride to wherever they were going. Aeron hated being around the trailer when they were out. They really made her feel uneasy. Her stomach lurched again and she felt lightheaded.

As she pulled in, she found that all the worst of them were right outside her house. She wondered if it would not be best to turn around right there and forget what she had come to get. She braved them though and dashed inside before they could say anything.

They didn't need to; their looks as she walked past were enough to send bad vibes up and down her spine. She heard, as she opened the screen door, unlocked the main door, and dove in, one man with too many tattoos whistle. She tried to shake it off but the feeling was already there.

Once inside the house, she popped some Ibuprofen into her mouth and stuffed a few extras into her pocket for later in case she needed one. The trailer was by no means clean or decent, but she had no intention to stick around and tidy up while all those weird people were hanging around outside the place.

She grabbed what she wanted and got out of the park as soon as she could. Aeron always vowed to herself several times a day that when she had finished high school (she had never wanted to be a drop-out even if she did skip every now and again), she would take Quetzy and leave this place once and for all.

All of a sudden, she began to think about the future and her plans and realized she had none. There was nothing she could do about her life or her situation. She wanted Quetzy, if no one else, to have a decent childhood and some good in her life. Quetzy was the world to Aeron now that she had nothing else left. Everything had been taken away so violently and so suddenly.

She almost shut her eyes at the awful memory but slowly remembered she was still driving. We wouldn't want a wreck now would we, Stupid? See what other wonderful things you can bring upon yourself, she scolded.

When she reached the abandoned warehouse, she saw two vehicles leisurely parked in front. One was rusted and beat-up like hers which she instantly recognized as Faolan's. The other was sleek, black, without a dent, scratch, or mark, and bled expensive everywhere. She wondered if the seating was made of money. She envied the driver for she had nothing, let alone money.

She, being more wary than the owners of the two vehicles in front of the store, chose a more secluded spot around back.

Aeron got out of her car rather awkwardly. She still felt awful and wasn't entirely sure why. World History did seem to have that effect on her but it was never this bad. She stumbled through the doors of the abandoned warehouse as quietly as possible.

She knew she was late and that the meeting had already started. Maybe it was already done and over with. She would feel terrible if she missed the whole thing, mainly because she knew she would have let down Faolan.

The warehouse was dusty and dank. She held back a cough and sneeze so she would not disturb the mice that darted out of her way every time she took a step further. Shelves still hung unbalanced but the merchandise had been removed either by the last manager of the store or had been looted out by people in need.

She guessed it was the latter because some things still remained, such as toothbrushes, toilet paper, and tissues. Someone was probably using this place as a storage room and would come back when he or she needed the necessities.

Aeron stopped abruptly at the moment she heard voices. She held her breath hoping Mr. Spinelli had not ratted her out. She knew he couldn't have known where she was going but she stood paralyzed in the spot. She hoped the cops weren't there. That would be the end of everything.

She heard something move in the far corner. A bag of rotten potatoes fell over spilling its contents. Something was behind those bags. Had she made too much noise? It must have been the mice she falsely assured herself. Though, Aeron could have swore she saw a pair of eyes staring at her; eyes that belonged to something human. But it must have been a trick of the light because in an instant, the eyes were gone; her fears melted away.

She didn't start moving forward until she heard Faolan. His deep husky voice was strange and somehow melodic. She had always admired his voice. It was the kind of deepness that comes from a strong male who would protect the weaker female. It was the kind of raspy that would make Dracula hide under his coffin. It didn't seem right that the voice was projected from this ragged, tall, starved-looking figure. If she hadn't known any better, she would have thought he was a stray beggar or, better yet, a coyote.

He was talking to a man dressed in a very expensive looking suit. She would have guessed it was a Loto or a vintage Armani, but it actually looked like something she had never seen before. Most of the men and women they did business with were poor folks. Their business was not that well-known. Maybe that was why Faolan seemed so giddy tonight. The man obviously had connections and was most definitely rich, which meant he probably had rich friends too.

Aeron walked in cautiously approaching Faolan. He held his hand out to her and winked showing everything was going great with their new client. "Mr. Smith, this is my colleague, Aeron. She happens to be carrying your merchandise, so be very kind to her." He smiled broadly showing all his pointy wolfish teeth. They used to scare Aeron, but now it was sort of his trademark. She grinned back and handed him the duffle bag she'd retrieved from the trailer.

Mr. Smith beamed as if the bag held the most expensive contents in the world. Aeron wondered if he knew it was only a few pirated DVDs, some illegally burnt CDs, and maybe some cigarettes Faolan had managed to get a hold of. He reached out for the bag but Faolan jerked it back. "Ah, ah, ah." He wagged his finger and shook his head. "Not quite, Sir."

Aeron stood back as Mr. Smith's eyes clouded and his face smeared with rage. He apparently really wanted this merchandise.

"You see, we have this…policy, if you will. It says we need to have your name in writing that you will not say anything to anyone about this meeting."

Mr. Smith didn't look happy about this news.

"It's okay, don't look so paranoid. All you have to do is sign your name on the dotted line." Faolan smiled. Aeron knew this was his favorite part of the business. He was almost evil looking when he got ready to deliver his next line like an esteemed actor on the ruins of Broadway.

"Oh, and one more thing. You have to just prick your finger. It doesn't hurt at all. It's just like a rose thorn touching your skin. You okay? You're looking pale." Mr. Smith was looking pale and angrier by the second.

"Faolan," she tapped his shoulder, "Maybe we should skip this part. We can maybe just let him sign and go." She didn't like the stare Faolan was giving her but right now Mr. Smith scared her more.

"I'm sorry; my colleague is a bit…sensitive towards those who don't seem to want to follow the rules. Maybe they are a bit outlandish but we are fearful. You know, these days, with all the extra police out watching for young, potential criminals like us, you can't be too careful.

"I don't know you; you don't know me. How can we trust each other without a little initiation?" Faolan's eyes were getting wider as he talked with such authority. Aeron had never seen someone who seemed so experienced in bargaining and bending people to his will.

Mr. Smith didn't seem to be following though. He seemed so angry that it was impossible for him to even concentrate.

Aeron stepped closer to Faolan as Mr. Smith glared at them.

"Do you want the merchandise or not?" Faolan was saying.

"Where is your…contract?" This was the first time she had heard Smith speak. Unlike Faolan's, his voice was light a little higher than a male's voice should be. She heard he had a strong accent that she didn't recognize. At first she thought it was English or British but it didn't quite sound like either one. He pressed his hand to his slicked-back black hair as Faolan produced the piece of paper from his back pocket that Smith had so inappropriately named the contract.

Faolan scribbled some words on the piece of paper and handed it back to Smith.

I, the client of Faolan and Aeron, swear that I

will not go to the police about anything discu-

sed in this meeting. Anything I say outside this

wearhouse will be to my very rich friends about

how great this business is.

X…………………..

Faolan was most definitely not a lawyer or a great speller for that matter. His grammar wasn't that wonderful either, but Aeron said nothing. She had to stifle a laugh as Smith scanned the words and frowned with disapproval. He signed nonetheless and even pricked his finger with some reluctance. A drop spilled on the page and he gave Faolan a you-will-pay look.

Faolan just smirked.

"Your friend should be less cocky. It could get him into trouble in the future. Miss Charleson?"

Aeron was surprised to hear him use her last name. "Yes?"

"I was commanded to deliver a message from my master to you." With those words, he handed her a folded piece of elegant looking paper unlike the crumpled one Faolan had used. Smith left rather stiff-legged but other than that, he seemed to have gotten over his previous anger after he had delivered his note.

When Smith was completely out of hearing, Faolan ask, his voice full of anticipation, "Well, what does it say?"

"I don't know." As she scanned the words, her heart skipped two beats and she felt even more nauseous than before.

Miss Aeron Charleson,

Out of courtesy I would like you to know that you must choose now the biggest thing in your life: who you will stand with when the world comes to an end. You and Quetzalxochitl must make this decision alone and completely uninfluenced.

I will not attempt to sway you like the others you will meet. However, I will tell you that this world will end and that if you do not choose your friends carefully, you will be destroyed along with it—you and Quetzalxochitl.

There is no need to rush. Do not make your decision hastily. It may end you. I warn you as your friend and mentor: join me, and enjoy riches and pleasures beyond your wildest imaginations or do not, and suffer the consequences. Your choice.

I bid you heed this warning; the next one will not be so friendly and—mind you—generous.

Sincerely,

He Who Roams the Darkness

The words were sweet yet completely unnerving. How did this man—whoever he was—know so much about her and her sister? And what did he mean, "When the world comes to an end?" Her head spun, and she felt like she might fall. Luckily, Faolan's hand was ready to catch her as it positioned itself on her shoulder to balance her.

"What did you say to him!? He knew my name! He knew Quetzy! How did he know?" Aeron was suddenly filled with rage and directed it towards Faolan.

"Nothing. I said nothing. You know we can't…don't." He suddenly changed his words, probably to ensure she would not scream about the business being the cause of this. As good as he was, he could not have run it alone and he didn't want to take the chance of her leaving.

"I don't know what the—" he stopped himself before he swore and he knew how much she hated that. "What he was talking about or why he knew so much but, Aeron," His gaze instantly reassured her, "Haven't I always been here? I'll protect you." The last sentence sounded like a line from a really cheesy action movie made in the early twenty-first century.

She thought about saying something like, "But who will protect you?" just to add to the drama but it didn't fit and she decided against it.

"Come on, let's get out of here," he said propelling her forward. She realized as she stepped into the sunshine that didn't go with her mood that this had been the quickest, most terrifying business meeting she had ever attended. Did Faolan feel this uneasy? Maybe it was just her. She had felt worse in class today, too. Maybe faking sick for so long had actually made her sick

Faolan pulled out of the warehouse parking lot in his vehicle first. It was better that way since she didn't know where they were going.

It was already two o'clock. They couldn't be gone long. Quetzy would be getting out of school soon. She thought about calling Faolan on his car phone but then decided it would be better just to enjoy the ride while she had no worries and nothing to think about.

Unfortunately, thinking about car phones made her remember reading about the invention of phones on world history.

Turns out, in the late twentieth century and carrying on into the early twenty-first, someone had invented a device called cell phones. Huge companies like Corr Wireless, Verizon, T-Mobile, AT&T and various others sprung up and claimed the cell phone market. They came first in bulky shells that humans tired of, and then progressed into smaller versions with stylish colors and shapes that everyone fell in love with.

People became so obsessed with the things that they never put them down—even when they were driving. Aeron found this quite unbelievable but according to her never-wrong textbook, it was fact.

Many lives became endangered and some were lost. Motorcyclists especially were at risk without any form of protection over them. Eventually (though a bit delayed), a law was passed that cell phones were not allowed in cars period. This also led to a law about radios and various other things that distract even the most careful drivers.

Basically, the cell phone companies crumbled but a new wireless contacting device arose in its place. The company was called Wayward because the device was created just as the world was coming out of the Second Dark Ages.

The device was actually a 'more advanced model' of something that was put in cars much earlier in the twentieth century but this was voice activated. It was first invented towards the end of the twenty-first century and lasted until the mid-twenty second century when Wayward developed a better program called Rote—technology repeating itself over and over again but, this time, done right.

The problem with the first device was that you had to be extremely specific when dialing people's numbers or saying their names. Rote was simpler. All you had to do was simply think the name of number and Rote called the person for you.

Of course, it wasn't as simple as just thinking it. You had to wear a special head device that, first, was very large and uncomfortable. But like all things, the headset changed. Aeron remembered reading about a thing called Bluetooth and how it worked with cell phones in the early twenty-first century. That's what Rote sort of looked like. People just called them car phones now.

She didn't ever use Rote which was programmed into all cars—even the older models like the one she owned. She rarely wore the headset or called anyone from it. She felt the whole purpose of it was insignificant and that the idea that something would just keep coming alive no matter how many times it was destroyed was ridiculous.

So she decided against calling Faolan who was speeding far ahead of her in pursuit of some place to go. In fact, she turned the car phone on silent altogether. She glanced at the clock built into her car. It kept creeping closer and closer to three o'clock. She would need to be heading back.

Faolan, who was now about three cars ahead of her, pulled onto a ramp that led off the interstate and into some place called Risedale, according to the green Exit sign. She knew that was a good ways away from Ickes. Faolan, where on New Earth are you going? She smiled despite herself.

He turned into an old parking lot that belonged to a building that either burned down or had been condemned and recently demolished. Parts of walls and desks and shelves lay around. Grass was sprouting out of the concrete. Faolan got out before Aeron and trotted over to her car.

"Feel better?" he questioned with a goofy grin on his face. The truth was, she didn't but she wouldn't let him know that.

She nodded her head warily. He seemed unsatisfied but changed the subject. "You know what today is?"

"What?" She didn't know or care but she humored him.

"Today, May 5, 2309" he announced grandly, "Is the first year anniversary of the day the business was born." He smiled and continued, "Of course, you didn't come on board with me until later." He winked. "I'm glad you changed your mind."

She wanted to smile but she couldn't. It was hard to be playful with him when she was so concerned about her sister.

"I wish you would talk to me, Aeron." He declared and did a ninety-degree turn around, obviously not playing anymore.

"Faolan, you know what's bothering me. Can you not think about me for once?" She bit her lip and regretted saying that. It wasn't true, but she was so worried and she wasn't thinking about what she was saying.

Luckily, Faolan had known her long enough to understand her pain and held his tongue. She loved that about him. He knew her so well, though he had yet to figure him out. She looked up into his scared face. What was she searching for? Answers? If so, then to what questions? She thought about touching his face; tracing his deep burns in some futile attempt at reading his mind. Those scars. It was a rare thing to be let into Faolan's mind.

"I'm sorry but I can't stay here. I have to go back to Ickes. Quetzy gets out of school at three. So do I. But I don't know if I can go back, Faolan."

"No. No, that's not an option, Aeron. We already talked about this." He paused. "Is it him again?" He said 'him' with much distaste in his voice. It wasn't jealousy in it; it was more protective than anything and, for some reason, this made Aeron angry.

"No, not really." She blew him off with short answers. "I just can't handle being a parent and a kid at the same time."

"No one ever gave you that role, Aeron. You took that on by yourself." His words were awakening, but his tone kind.

"Do you really think Nathan would take care of her? That—" she stopped herself from saying something she would eventually regret, "He can barely take care of himself, let alone a child.

For a brief moment, Faolan looked as if he was in serious thought. Was he seriously considering her words? A look of pain washed over him briefly, but she thought it vanished quite suddenly.

"Faolan, I'm sorry but I really do have to go." Her eyes almost filled with tears as he turned around without saying a word to her. She wanted to call to him but she didn't want to sound desperate or clingy. After all, Faolan was her friend—just her friend.

He got into his car silently. The movement was so graceful it almost made Aeron mad. But she wasn't mad at him because he seemed so much more sophisticated and older and wiser than her; it was because he had completely left her without saying anything. And when she was so scared too. She wanted to believe he had something important to do, but Faolan, like her, didn't do anything other than the business.

Aeron couldn't stand to wait in the parking lot any longer. She got in her car, slammed the door, cranked it (her car was not voice activated like the newer models), and drover back to Ickes.

The drive back didn't seem as long as the drive up. It was probably because there was no anticipation; no questions to be answered. She knew exactly where she was going and why. Yes, back to the small, quiet town of Ickes where she had grown up for as long as she could remember.

She sat quietly in the backseat of a long black limo. It was the first time she had been sitting quietly since they left. She was frightened. She was absolutely positive she did not want to get out of the limo but she didn't want to sit inside it for another second.

She squirmed but then remembered who was sitting beside her. She instantly sat up straighter and stiffer than before and didn't move again until they pulled into an ugly looking trailer park. She didn't move until she was practically pushed out of the limo by rough hands with only a small bag of belongings and an envelope containing a letter that she had been forbidden to read.

There was suddenly a man standing before her. He looked like he hadn't washed in weeks, and his clothes were soiled with something that smelled terrible. She wrinkled her nose as he approached, lifted her off the ground, spun her around, and hugged her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the limo speed away and suddenly, all memory of everything—everything—was gone.

Aeron's flashback was interrupted by the honking horn of a big tow truck carrying a wrecked vehicle that was so mangled she couldn't tell what sort of car it was.

It had brought back old memories that had been stored in the smallest niches of her mind and buried away for years. Thinking back, she couldn't remember anything about the day she came to live with Nathan except the limo.

The only other thing that stood out in her mind was a white dress she was almost certain she had been wearing. She couldn't remember it, sadly. She hoped it was in storage or something. She hoped even more that it hadn't been thrown out with most of her other possessions.

Another angry driver, who evidently didn't approve of her driving abilities, sped past her and gave her a few inappropriate gestures. She tried to ignore them, but stupid people like that reminded her of other people she wasn't so fond of. They made her want to go home and hurt someone.

She breathed in and out slowly trying to get her heart to stop beating up against her chest so hard. Something had caused her to be nervous today, but she wasn't sure what. Something was very wrong; she could feel it.

The Ickes Elementary School looked like it had been completely abandoned. It almost looked like the warehouse she had left not too long ago. There were a few rowdy kids running around the parking lot, a teacher sitting in a metal folding chair with a magazine, and Quetzy sitting; reading her little e-book in the middle of it all. She looked up from the book that she had previously been absorbed in when she heard Aeron's car. She smiled brightly and ran to the car before Aeron could sign her out on the sheet of paper the teacher was holding.

The teacher looked rather pleased to have one of the children gone, or, maybe she was dreading the next moments with the other four children. How could Aeron blame her when the only child behaving was leaving?

She didn't want to take Quetzy home but she didn't want to go anywhere either. She needed a shower after the afternoon's business meeting and probably a new change of clothes. Quetzy started talking the moment they were both sitting in the car. Aeron buckled her seatbelt and gave her sister a look that told her to follow suit.

Aeron didn't ever wear her seatbelt except for when Quetzy was in the car with her since they were so bulky and uncomfortable. Seatbelts used to be small and light, but the government had come up with another set of rules on how to keep everyone safe. They installed "new and improved" seatbelts that were "guaranteed to work better than any of the older, unsophisticated models."

Everyday another set of rules came out. Everyday there were new way to keep people in line, make them behave better, and keep them supposedly safer. Every man, woman, and child in this New World was a puppet to the government. It was all a big show. They supposedly did what the people want to keep themselves in power but rarely what the people need. They just made it seem like it with their fancy seatbelts, Rotes, and radios.

As much as she hated the word, she came to believe that its meaning was more and more truth everyday. Everything was all a big conspiracy. That's right. She said it. Conspiracy.

"Aeron," she was brought out of her thoughts by Quetzy calling her name, "I'm hungry."

"Okay, I think we have something at home." She really didn't believe that but she hoped there was something left after Nathan's friends had last polished out the cabinets.

"Okay." Her tone was dejected. Quetzy didn't want to be at that house any more than Aeron did. She shook her head. She didn't want Quetzy to be somewhere that she didn't want to be. But what could she do?

She looked at her sister with pleading eyes. Quetzy was looking down, playing with her fingers with the most depressing look on her face. It was sickening to see such a sweet, innocent child in so much pain. Though it wasn't physical pain, which she had experienced before; it was mental, which was worse. Aeron made another silent vow to herself that she would take Quetzy away from here.

The school year was almost over. Aeron wasn't going to attend high school the following year. She had been turning the idea around in her head for weeks not. It wasn't a plan but if it was necessary to keep Quetzy safe, so be it.

You couldn't be anything in this New World if you didn't finish school, and Aeron realized that being nothing was what she was truly afraid of. She wanted to be accepted by someone or something, and it was obvious that society wasn't going to do that.

Quetzy was more important, and Aeron would do anything for her. She would leave this forsaken place and take her baby sister with her, no matter what sacrifice it took on her part. She reached over and put her hand on Quetzy's shoulder. The kid looked up at her, her eyes no longer sad. She smiled down weakly and Quetzy beamed back. That did the trick.

What a kid, she thought. I sure as hell don't deserve her. Quetzy was so smart and had so much potential. How in the New World had she ended up in Nathan's care? When Aeron had come to live with that son of a gun, Quetzy had already been there. Of course, Quetzy had been a baby, and Aeron had been seven or eight. It didn't take long for Aeron to realize that she would be keeping tabs on the baby. In doing that, she came to love the little girl. They were sisters.

The weird people were gone, but another person had apparently just got home from work. Aeron hadn't realized how late it was. The clock in her car read four thirty-seven. She swore under her breath and Quetzy looked up at her with an unreadable look on her face. "Sorry," She murmured.

Quetzy glanced down.

"It's a habit," she whispered, "I'm working on it."

Nathan was sprawled out on the couch watching the news on the small television screen with a beer on the table beside him and a cigarette in his hand. They didn't have enough money for a decent television set. He didn't acknowledge their presence until Quetzy walked past him. "Hey," his voice was hoarse probably from the night before shouting with his drunken friends. "Hey, kiddo. Are you gonna give your dad a hug or what?"

Quetzy looked tense and Aeron winced.

Nonetheless, Quetzy walked over to him stiffly and wrapped her tiny arms around his neck. He patted her head and she practically sprinted back to Aeron. Aeron put her hands on Quetzy's head and led her into the kitchen. She picked her up and set her on the counter. She leaned in close and whispered in her ears, "He's not your father."

Quetzy nodded.

"Good. Now," she raised her voice loud enough for Nathan to hear, "Let's see if we have anything to eat." She opened a cupboard that was stuck and groaned when she yanked it. There was nothing in it save an old box of cereal. It was an off brand called Cheerios. On the back it said 'Serving You Since 1956.'

"Ugh," Aeron groaned to herself. She grabbed it anyway and smiled brightly at Quetzy. "Yum! Did you know people have eaten this cereal since 1956?"

Quetzy's eyes got bright. "So cave people ate this stuff?"

"Um…maybe." She thought quickly. "You know, I think they did." She grabbed a bowl from the sink and began rinsing. When it was clean enough to eat out of, she poured some milk into it. Next came the Cheerios. She dumped all of it that was there into the bowl.

"There. Looks good doesn't it?" She said beaming.

"Why is it moving?"

"What?" She looked at the bowl and its contents. The O's were moving. Something was crawling beneath and emerging slowly to the surface.

Two cockroaches—each about an inch long—scurried out into view. Quetzy screamed and ran behind Nathan's couch.

"What the hell?" he yelled hoarsely.

Quetzy screamed again. Aeron quickly dumped the bowl and squashed the two cockroaches—which had fallen off the table and into the floor—with her shoe.

Nathan was shouting something she couldn't understand very loudly and it looked like his incoherent words were directed towards Quetzy who was cowering in a corner. This infuriated Aeron.

She ran to her and took her hand. She led her to a chair stuffed into another corner by the television. Quetzy was so frightened. She was still whimpering loudly despite Aeron's best efforts to comfort her.

Nathan shouted, "Shut up, kid! I've got a hangover and I'm trying to watch T.V.!"

"Don't worry. We're leaving." Aeron really wanted a hot shower but it could wait.

"Where do you think you're going, little girl?"

Aeron was quite insulted but blew off the comment. "Your friends ate every bit of the edible food in this house and left us this…this…bug-filled cereal. We're going to get something to eat and stock the cupboards. Plus, I would hate to disturb you any further."

Nathan was obviously furious and looked ready to beat her, but what else was new? "You will not go anywhere!" he screamed.

"Are you gonna stop me? You can't get yourself off the couch, let alone stop me from doing anything." She the rise in pitch and volume of her voice. She felt herself waver when Nathan stood looking much taller to her than he ever had before.

"Fine. Leave. Like I care what you do anyhow. Just leave her with me," He pointed at Quetzy with a shaky finger. "You may be able to drive away, but she's still mine." Nathan looked pleased, probably thinking he had played his trump card. But Aeron still had hers that she had been saving for twelve years.

"You are not her father. You won't touch her." She declared without any smile on her face. "Come on, Quetzy. Let's go." She pulled her sister to the door hoping Nathan wouldn't decide to advance any further. She might have been able to talk smart but she could never overpower the big man. He groaned as if standing alone was such an effort.

"Oh…" He held his head.

Aeron breathed a sigh of relief and walked out the front door after she grabbed Quetzy's windbreaker.

"You'll be back!" She heard Nathan shout as they headed for her car. "And when you do I'll be waiting!"

She wanted to yell something smart back at him but couldn't think of anything. Oh, what are we gonna do? Where are we gonna go? They couldn't go back here. Not now. Not after she had stood up to him like that. She couldn't do that to Quetzy. Nathan was unstable and angry and there was no telling what he might do in his drunken state.

Aeron had about three hundred dollars in her secret stash she kept in her car from her cut in the business. That was good but it wasn't anywhere close to what they would need to get away. As she slammed the door and cranked the car, she glanced at the gage. It was on E. Great. Another thing to add to their list of recently acquired problems. They were never going to be able to pull this off. Maybe Nathan was right. Maybe they would have to come back. No. She forced herself not to think that way.

She could worry about their escape later. Right now she had to get some food before Quetzy started crying again. She was still sniffing in the seat beside her but that was mostly because of Nathan—not because of the food or the bugs. She wanted to pull the child into her arms and comfort her but she couldn't now. Instead, she held out her hand. Quetzy grasped it and held it to her face. Her tears were warm and flowing. She had to think of something quick.

It was getting dark. The streetlights were coming on and the police were hiding in secluded places and dark parking lots waiting; watching for those who didn't seem quite right to them. Aeron didn't like the police now-a-days. She remembered reading about a time where they actually did their job and didn't abuse their power. Now they just took in whoever they wanted, whether they were doing wrong or not.

But whenever the night brought unpleasant things, there was always one thing that always gave her comfort. The moon. It shined brightly in the sky above. The man on the moon smiled down on her little car and Quetzy. It made her wonder about aliens and other worlds. But those thoughts were silly.

A loud beep came from Aeron's Rote. A message flashed on the buzzer. You Have One New Message. She saw out of the corner of her eye Quetzy glance at her. She was worried that it was Nathan. "It's okay. I'm just gonna check it," she reassured.

Quetzy seemed to relax but not enough to make Aeron feel better. She snapped the Rote into place behind her ear and thought the words, "Check messages."

The pleasant monotonous voice that came with all Rotes said politely, "First unheard message sent today at two forty eight p.m."

Another voice—one that wasn't fake or recorded and one she recognized—came over the Rote. "Hey…um…Aeron? Look, I'm sorry for leaving like I did but I…I didn't feel right, you know? Ugh. I can't do this. Are you there? I really need to talk to you. Fine, but Kramer is coming up to the warehouse. He's got some new merchandise for us and I would like you to be there. Anyway, I—OUCH! SON OF A—" the message ended.

She wished she hadn't turned the Rote on silent earlier today. She would've got the message, picked up Quetzy, and been at the warehouse right now with Faolan. She could already see the bright lights of the city, with its fancy restaurants and beer stores, neon signs blinking grandly as if they actually had something to offer customers.

Aeron found a parking lot to turn around in and sped away from the lights and food and towards the warehouse where Faolan and Kramer were.

"Where are we going?" Quetzy's voice broke as it went up a pitch.

"We're going to see Faolan. He has some food for us." She didn't seem to believe her, but Aeron had to get to Faolan. Even if his message hadn't been urgent his last words scared the crap out of her. What if someone had hurt him? What if one of their customers had gotten angry because he wouldn't agree to let them out of signing his stupid contract? What if he was…dead? No, he couldn't be. Faolan was strong and would never give in to anyone. He wouldn't.

The more she thought about it, the more frantic she became. She played the message over and over listening for some new information. "…would like you to be there. Anyway, I—OUCH! SON OF A—"

"…Anyway, I—OUCH! SON OF A—"

"…OUCH! SON OF A—"

She couldn't listen anymore. She slipped the Rote of her ear and attempted to put it back in its place by the radio. Her hands were shaking so bad that she dropped it in the floor. "Crap."

She leaned down to pick it up but stayed down for longer than she expected. She felt around for it but couldn't see it in the dark. "Hit the light for me, will ya'?" She heard Quetzy lean over and the light click. She could see the Rote easier now as light flooded through the car.

As she was coming up from the floor, she heard Quetzy scream. All of her senses kicked into overdrive. The scream was louder; the headlights from the other car were brighter. Her adrenaline rushed, and she swerved to miss the car going much too fast.

Something was wrong. It wasn't Quetzy's scream she heard. It was Faolan's.

She realized in all the confusion that they were already at the warehouse. There were two cars parked: one Faolan's; the other a bright yellow Barracuda. The meeting had already started, and something was terribly wrong. Faolan was in pain. She felt utterly helpless knowing there was nothing she could do to help him.

She couldn't move the car fast enough to avoid a collision. The other car slammed into the back of her car on the passenger side. The car lurched and suddenly sped up and into the ditch. It turned sideways on Aeron's side, and broken glass pierced into the side of her head. The car did one more flip before coming to a stop, landing on its hood.

Quetzy was still screaming as she and Aeron dangled upside down. Everything spun for about five second until it all went black.

* * *

Red and blue lights blinked furiously as sirens wailed. Everything hurt. It hurt when she was still. It hurt to move. It hurt to breath; it hurt not to. Someone was saying something to her, but she couldn't hear clearly. The sound was muffled. It sounded like she was under water. Finally, her ears popped, and she was able to hear the person talking to her clearly. Well, almost clearly. The voice was too beautiful to be a human's. She was sure she was still dazed.

"Are you alright? Are you okay? Just sit still and I'll have you out of here in a second." It was a man's voice but it sounded young.

She tried to talk back, but her vocal cords didn't seem to work. She felt herself being tugged and pulled by strong hands. The broken glass from her window dug into her skin. She felt warm blood trickle down her arms. Her hair was matted against her head. She felt sticky all over.

The air smelled funny. Nothing looked right to her. Everything seemed different. The stars weren't right in the sky and the moon didn't seem as comforting as it had before. Even the man on the moon glowered at her menacingly. It made her shiver.

"Are you cold?" The man said. She turned towards him so she could get a better look. He was just a boy with a soft face and kind eyes.

"Oh," she started, "You're—"

"Young? I know. I get that a lot. I'm one of those rare people that get the gift of eternal life." He smiled at her, and she attempted to smile at him, but she kept thinking that he was either crazy or very obsessed with his looks. "Here," He said handing her his jacket. It smelled funny too, but somehow she was able to forget that as she gazed into his eyes.

They were rosy colored and seemed like never ending pools of beauty. She had never seen red eyes. It was so strange. "What's your name?" He asked her in his boyish voice.

"Aeron." Something was still wrong, but she couldn't help but tell the boy her name. "Where's my sister?" Some parts of her brain were starting to work again, and she able to think a bit clearer.

"Your sister? Oh, yes. You mean the little girl in the car with you? Yes. She is right here. Safe."

She gradually noticed her surroundings. There were tons of police cars with their lights flaring and Quetzy sitting in one with a blanket wrapped around her. She seemed to be crying, but Aeron still was having a hard time getting her bearings. Quetzy? Car? Safe? The words seemed unfamiliar. How could Quetzy even be alive? The other car had slammed into the passenger side where she had been sitting. Had she even been wearing her seatbelt? Aeron couldn't remember making her put it on. She was so little. She couldn't have survived through that. She couldn't…

There was something else. In another car, not far from where she and the boy sat, was another boy. He looked to be about Aeron's age. He wore a baggy shirt with ugly stripes and uncomfortable bracelets on each wrist. His hair was messed up and in terrible need of a combing. His face was scrunched up like he smelled something bad. Aeron smelled it too.

She reached up and put her hand to her throbbing head. She was so confused. When she pulled her hand back down, it was sticky, and she inspected it. The crash had left a huge gash on her head where the glass shards from the broken windshield had pierced her.

"Quetzalxochitl is too frightened to tell us much. That's why it was so vital to have you awake. We need to get a reliable statement." The boy stated bringing Aeron back to him.

"What about the other driver? Couldn't he…or she…give a statement?" She felt like she had just woken up from a deep sleep and found herself in some alternate universe.

The boy smiled, "We cannot find the other driver. Apparently it fled the scene." If not for the stray glance into his eyes, Aeron would've thought calling a human being 'it' was very strange, but once again she was swimming in those rosy eyes. "So, Miss Charleson, what happened?" He said waking her up from the trance.

"I was on my Rote." It was so easy to talk to him now. "I dropped it and bent down to get it when Quetzy screamed. There was a car in my lane and we collided. My car flipped and that's all I remember." She felt like she was leaving out something but she couldn't remember anything further.

"So, then you say it is your fault?" the boy said. She looked up at his name tag that read Radley.

"No. No, the driver was in my lane. It wasn't my fault." Some of her dizziness was starting to wear off.

"But you were not watching the road. It was your fault. Don't you see? If you had been watching, you would have had time to move out of the way for the other car. Am I wrong?"

Aeron wanted to justify herself, but her mind was clouded, and she couldn't find the words to argue. "I suppose not."

"Good! Then you'll come with us?"

"Sure." She had been defeated but she didn't know how.

"You have made a wise decision, Miss Charleson."

Suddenly something clicked. "Faolan!"

Radley stopped dead in his tracks and looked at her with hate. "What did you say?" His voice was no longer soft. He seemed angry.

"Faolan. My…my friend…I think…"

"No. He's not your friend. We must go, now!"

"Oh, okay." She was too exhausted to argue with Radley. He couldn't mean her any harm anyway. There was just something intoxicating about him.

"Good, Miss Charleson. Good." Aeron furrowed her brows. Was this the first time he had called her that?

"How did you know my last name?" Had it been the first time he had used it in a sentence? Or maybe it was just the first time she had heard it.

"Don't you remember? You told me your name." he justified.

"No. No, I told you my name was Aeron. I didn't tell you my last name." She gasped. "I didn't tell you my last name!" Suddenly everything was dreadfully clear. The man who sent her the letter knew her name too. He also knew Quetzy. How was all this possible?

Then she remembered Faolan. She remembered him screaming as the car spun out of control. She had to get to him. They were still by the warehouse, and his car was still there. "Aeron!" Radley shouted. "You have to come with me. Faolan had lied to you. He is not who you think he is. Why do you think he has looked after you all these years? Because he cared about you? No. He has lied to you. He wants you to join him when the world ends."

There was that phrase. When the world ends.

"No. He couldn't have." She found tears streaming down her face. Why was Radley doing this to her? She felt so helpless.

"Come with me. I'll explain everything." His voice was soft again.

She nodded and began to follow him to the car where Quetzy was now sleeping peacefully. "Why don't you sit here while I get something for you?"

She didn't object. He went behind the car and retrieved something from the trunk. "Here, all you have to do is sign this."

That seemed harmless enough. "I need a pen." She declared.

"Oh, no. You won't need a pen. All you have to do is prick your littlest finger. Sign on the dotted line please." Radley said confidently.

Suddenly, Aeron felt the fear that so many of her and Faolan's clients had felt before. She felt like she was about to sign her life away but she couldn't resist the impulse to take the knife Radley was producing from behind his back. "That's it. Right there." All of a sudden, Radley's eyes didn't look so inviting anymore. They were fiery, but Aeron couldn't find it in her to look away.

The knife uncontrollably slipped as she pricked her finger. She was just about to sign when a distant voice that she somewhat recognized called to her. "Stop! Wait!" She looked up but the face she remembered didn't go along with the voice she heard.

Some man was running to her. He was tall, dark, and was wearing only his jeans. His voice was deep and raspy. It sounded like it belonged to a wolf. A word slipped from her mouth, "Kramer?" She had never met the man Faolan admired so much but somehow, she knew this was him.

Radley shrieked. The shriek was loud and long. It couldn't have belonged to the boy that she had been so attracted to before. She was somehow able to awake from the dream she had been living in since the crash. She had only noticed Radley's eyes but now, she saw him for the first time fully.

His skin was pale and crinkly. It looked paper thin, like she could easily tear it off his face. His lips were now thirsty; hungry for blood. He pushed her into the car and slammed the door. Quetzy woke up and began screaming wildly again. Aeron went to open the door to escape, but the locks came down by themselves and Aeron and Quetzy were trapped.

Kramer darted out of the way as Radley attempted to collide into him. His dark form shadowed him against the night. "You promised not to interfere," Kramer accused.

"Well, you know me—always lying; breaking my promises."

"You are bound by your word, Nightshader."

"Ah, but it wasn't my word I gave. It was his." Radley pointed to the ground and smiled wickedly.

"Nightshader, you cannot touch her. She is ours."

"Go and get her." he challenged.

Kramer pushed past Radley and ran towards the car. Aeron banged on the window and Quetzy screamed louder. "Hold still!" he shouted. "I'm coming to get you!"

"Look out!" Aeron yelled. Radley was coming behind Kramer, his teeth barred. He slammed him hard on the head with his bare hands and Kramer slumped to the ground. All hope was now lost as Radley strode confidently to the other side of the car.

None of them saw the figure crawling down the hill for it was cloaked in the shadows. Radley spoke the car to life, "On," Aeron didn't remember cars starting so easily with just one word sentences. He continued, "Go," but the car wouldn't move. He growled and opened the door. Cursing under his breath, he walked around to the back to find that the wheels were stuck in the ruts.

Aeron was the first to see the figure. In the beginning she thought it was another one of what Kramer had called a Nightshader, or worse. But then she saw it was only a harmless dog. It crept towards Radley slowly and quietly. She wanted to warn it but she couldn't seem to find her voice. It stood on its hind legs and towered over the Nightshader.

A shadow swept over the police car and those inside it. Radley looked up cautiously. The dog growled, and a light burst from the creature. There was a scream but nothing else afterward. Aeron's eyes slowly adjusted, and Faolan was standing beside her, opening the door.

Another shriek came from behind the car as Radley's scorched face came into view. "You will pay with your soul, Wolf!' He cried.

Faolan ignored him and said in a new voice that Aeron almost didn't recognize, "Come on. We're leaving."

Author's note: I realize that after reading several times upon finished this chapter, it seems to move a bit too fast and Aeron's train of thought sort of drifts from thing to thing. I am working on this problem and trying to tweak anything that will hamper the flow of the story. I think I have been able to correct the bulk of the grammatical errors, though I'm sure I've unfortunately missed some. I deeply hope you enjoyed this chapter and I promise, there will be more to come. Thank you.

~Shawna Damien