HERE IS THE NEW SECTION THAT I TOTALLY WASN'T PREPARED TO HAVE. ENJOY.

AMERICA

Even after all this, I still had some doubts.

"Maxon, what changed your mind? Why did you decide to come after me?"

We had left the car and were walking back to my room. Maxon dropped an arm over my shoulders and side-hugged me.

"I was already going after you. I checked your room first, though, and when you weren't there, I looked for anything that could point to you. And then, I found this letter."

He pulled out a piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to me. It was the letter I had written him. The one as an explanation and goodbye.

Beyond my thoughts, Maxon continued his own explanation. "America, when I read this letter, my heart nearly broke in two. I was so devastated, I knew I just had to find you. I mean, I already knew, but I just..."

Hearing this, I was overcome with emotion. I placed an arm around Maxon's back, and he just squeezed me back.

We walked in silence until we reached my room.

"May I come in and help you unpack?" Maxon said.

I laughed and said, "Honestly, I don't have much to unpack, Maxon. If you remember. But, yes, you can come in."

We entered the room, to find that it had been ransacked. How much had happened in the... Hour? ... we had been gone?!

"America, get behind me." Maxon said. His back was facing the back wall, but I did not go to stand behind him.

"No. Whoever it is that did this, we'll face them together."

"Lady America Singer, it's nice to finally meet you. You look lovely this evening," said a dark voice from the closet.

Maxon grabbed my arm and tugged me closer to him. I didn't resist; I was frightened.

"What do you want? Who are you?" he said.

"Ah, that's the question, isn't it? I really can't tell you who I am, but I will tell you what I want. Otherwise, how would I get it?"

Despite everything, I was getting annoyed. "Would you get to the point, please?"

"Ooh, we've got a feisty one here, now don't we? Well, since you asked so nicely, I'll go ahead and tell you. I want your secrets."

"My secrets? I think you mean the palace's secrets, right?" I asked, trying to delay the man from the secrets.

He stepped from the shadows. His clothes weren't ragged like most rebels. They were clean, cut smoothly. His face was clean, shaven, and surprisingly handsome.

"Yes, you are correct. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Stephen Trapp. I am the co-leader of the Southern Rebels," he said. His face blossomed into an evil smile.