My father was still standing under the monitor in shock. That might have been even more frightening than another rebel attack. No matter what, my father always has a plan. I ran up to him and grabbed his arm, which is probably the first time ever I have brought attention to myself in front of him.

"Father, what did they mean? Why do they want the diaries?" I asked him forcefully. His eyes locked on mine.

"I can't be sure, but Maxon, you do understand that we cannot give them the diaries." He said it as if that was obvious to me the whole time, his eyebrows raised.

"We have to hand them over. Did you see what they were… what they were…" I trailed off before my voice cracked, worried that I might embarrass myself for the thousandth time in front of him.

"Maxon Schreave, there is no way I am letting those damn rebels get their dirty hands on Gregory Illéa's diaries."

And then I did something that shocked my father and myself. I fought back.

"Well if you won't hand over the diaries, then we have to find some way to locate and rescue America." I turned to Officer Markson, one of the palace's top technical workers.

"Markson, see if you can find where the signal that cut into our system came from." Then I turned to my father. "Have the air force send out ten jets after Officer Markson finds the signal. I will be accompanying one of them, and once we find the rebel compound we will send a squad of the best fighters into the area to bring back America." I said with conviction. I turned on my heel and walked away, but not before seeing my father's mouth hanging wide open. I smirked, in spite of it all, and set off to find America.


Geoffrey's hands closed around my neck, and I could feel the world go black for a second before falling to the floor. The sound of his voice was muffled, but I was conscious. Slowly, my hearing returned to normal, and I edged myself up against the wall.

I opened my eyes to find Geoffrey's staring straight into them. My hand flew to my mouth as I stifled a scream, and he gave me a wide grin. His teeth gleamed. Really, how did these rebels have such good hygiene?

"Excellent show you put on there, Miss America. Just excellent." His face wore a satisfied expression that made me want vomit.

"Thank you. I hope you aren't too disappointed when that performance fails to meet your expectations," I said sarcastically. His eyes narrowed.

"What would make you say that?" He asked incredulously.

"You really think that King Clarkson would just hand over the diaries because you gave me, what, a couple bruises? You will never get those diaries as far as I can help it," I spit out. I knew I was probably just making things worse, but Geoffrey's furious, frustrated face was just too good to pass up. Anyways, why give him the satisfaction of letting him know that my "bruises" were actually probably broken ribs? My sides were starting to hurt like hell, but he didn't need to know that.

"Well, Lady Singer, I suppose if we aren't making this little deal a high enough stake, maybe we ought to… increase the risk." He tipped my chin up with one finger as I struggled to get away. "Let Maxon know that he only has a small amount of time before he won't be able to rescue his pretty princess anymore." My eyes widened, and he whispered, "Because she'll be dead."


Two hours later, and I was in the palace war strategy room. I had the coordinates of the place where the signal cut into the system, a squad of the palace's best soldiers, and I was ready to depart. Until my father showed up.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He demanded. "You think you can just fly off to find your 'true love'? Well let me tell you, Maxon, that is not going to happen."

"Why not? I can't just let her die. If we don't do anything, then the rebels win."

"No, we win because they don't get the diaries. You are going to call off this cute little rescue mission you've got going on, you're going to forget about America, and you're going to choose another wife. This operation is over." He said menacingly.

"You can't just tell me what to do with my entire life! I've played by your rules my whole life, and now you're trying to decide who I must marry? And on top of that, you're going to let an innocent girl die?" I exploded, taking myself aback.

"She is not innocent, Maxon. She nearly destroyed this country, not to mention my son's sense of judgement! You will not leave the palace, and that is final." He started walking away. "Oh, and one more thing: the final round of the Selection must consist of three girls. Celeste has been invited to rejoin the competition." My jaw dropped slightly. "She's a very smart choice, Maxon. I hope you know I raised you to be smart."

I sat down at the desk and lowered my face into my hands. Try as I might, I couldn't resist my father. A new courage may have arose in me in the past couple hours to argue with him, but deliberately going against his word was another thing. I couldn't decide what was stronger: my fear of my father or my love for America.

A knock at the door brought me out of my anxious thoughts and I cleared my throat.
"Come in."

Officer Markson entered the room with an expression that was a mixture of pain, worry, and fear. "You-Your Majesty, there has been a development in the- in the current crisis." He stammered. "It just arrived, I- I don't know how long we have-"

"Get to the point, Markson. What is it?"

"Your Majesty, we only have twenty four hours before the rebels kill Lady America."


I traced patterns in the dust on the floor of my freezing cell. I wish I could just know what was happening. What was happening at the palace? It must have been absolute chaos. And my family… they watch the Report every Sunday. They must have seen… oh God.

And Maxon. Was he even worried? And if he was, would he even be able to come find me? The torture of being completely clueless to what was happening was killing me.

The small window in the top of my cell let in the smallest amount of moonlight possible, but it was better than nothing. I inched myself towards it, trying not to hurt myself even more. It was a full moon, the brightest I'd seen in a long time, and there were millions of stars dotting the black sky like the tiny diamonds on a dress that my maids had made me. I wish I could be with them now.

Wishing. It was a funny thing. So childish, but yet it still feels so magical, like it really means something. I used to wish on stars with Kota and Kenna when I was little, and I believed that maybe the universe really was listening to me. Maybe all those wishes actually held some truth.

So I found the brightest star in the sky and wished.


I stood there completely frozen. Kill her. The rebels were going to kill her. I couldn't breathe.

"Officer Markson?" I asked.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

I took in a shaky breath. "Tell the troops the mission is back on. Reload the jets."

He looked nervous. "But sir, what about the King…"

"I said reload. And do not inform the King."

I didn't care what the hell my father did to punish me. I could live through a thousand hits but I couldn't live without America.

I was going to get her back, no matter what it took.


A/N The reviews I've been getting are blowing my mind! Thank you so much to everyone! I love you all :* Also, I've been finding songs that remind me soo much of The Selection, I'll put them in the next chapter's A/N!

babysister1997: Haha, I know right?
Meg-sters52: Thanks! I loved the idea of him not being able to help, too :)
Lady Kalee: Why thank you, my dear
Cute Irish gal: Yay! Can't wait to read your fanfiction! and I didn't forget about you!
Maggiebswim: Don't worry, she's not dying anytime soon... or is she? :O !
Julianna Rose: Thank you! I know it was sad, but it was necessary. I'll keep writing if you keep
reading :)
Karen: Celeste said she's going to be back... Hmm... :)
Idk: No no no, I love YOU so much :)
I'm a fan: OMGOSH thank you so much! That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me!
Guest: Here, here, here!
I-am-your-fan: Oh my gosh, thank you so much
Mackenzielifebl: okokokokokokokokokokokokokokokokokokokokokokokok :)