A/N Hey guys I'm back! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! It's been forever, but I hope you guys can forgive me! I don't have much to say other than things are about to get pretty crazy, oh, and don't assume anything. Even things so simple, are so complicated. ;)

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I am going to pick up from here.

"Until now I didn't really know how much I wanted to be in Maxon's arms. I stood up from the bed, and said, "Come in," very quietly. He still heard me, and he slowly opened the door. Silent tears were already running down my face as I stood 10 feet away from him. As he saw me his face showed nothing but the upmost concern for me, which made me burst into tears. Maxon ran over to me and engulfed me in a hug as we both crumpled to the floor. I cried and cried into Maxon's shirt until his shirt was soaked and my eyes could no longer produce tears. I cried for the loss of my family, I cried for all the wrongs in the world, I cried for the way King Clarkson beats his son with a whip. I mourned all the tragedies of my modern day world. Maxon never let me go, as we just sat there. Maxon constantly whispered encouraging things into my ear. I could enjoy them for the moment but in the end, I knew deep down in my heart that things will never "be okay." Just when I thought nothing could make this day worse, the hauntingly familiar sound of the rebel alarm blared throughout the palace."

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Maxon immediately snatched me up from where we were sitting on the floor. I went from crying and in a dour mood, to know where my heart is racing and adrenaline pumps through my veins. He grabbed a hold of my arm and led me through the door that connected our suites and went into his room. He went to his bookshelf in the corner of the room, and pulled out a specific book. I couldn't tell what it was, but it was a huge book. As he pulled the book out I heard a shifting sound, as the bookcase swung open to reveal and dark and narrow set of stairs going down. He guided me in first; the air was musty and full of dust, which made it difficult to breathe. He was in the process of shutting the bookcase when we heard the first screams of this inevitable rebel attack. These situations and sounds are what pure nightmares are made of. Maxon successfully shut the bookcase and took my hand as he led me down the narrow dark staircase. After going for what seemed about at least 2 stories, we finally came to a stop where the staircase widened a bit and there was a big door right in front of us. He let go of my hand and went up to the door. He punched in a number I didn't quite catch and the door made a beeping noise. Usually when someone puts in a code, the door just shifts and opens. This time didn't seem to be the case, and Maxon seemed worried. So if he was worried then I certainly was too.

"Maxon, why is the door making that noise?"

"I have no clue! I know the right code, but it is saying that all the rooms have been manually over ridded to be shut and not opened until further authorization." Maxon said as if he too couldn't believe the words coming from his own mouth.

"But who would know how to do such a thing, as far as I know the rebels don't even know these exist!"

"I know America that's what baffles me the most! Either way we need to get out of here. The bookcase doesn't provide any protection, and if the rebels somehow have now discovered all the saferooms then we best bet they are on their way here now." Maxon said with a sense of urgency and disbelief.

He grabbed my hand as he led me back up the long staircase once again. When we finally got to the top I was out of breath. My lungs ached and my legs burned. Out of my time at the palace eating whatever I want whenever I want is taking its toll. I made a mental note to start working out with Maxon. He let go of my hand and started fiddling with another keypad on the back side of the bookcase. He said something unintelligible, as the bookcase opened with a gush of old, stale air. We stepped back into his suite and the weirdest feeling washes over me. The alarm is off, and the entire palace isn't a complete wreck like it usually is. Soon we found out from one of the guards that the alarm tripped and somehow something made the doors to the saferooms manually lock. That in and of itself is so weird it baffles me. The alarm is not sensitive at all. There have even been several occasions where we have been attacked and they didn't trip the alarm. We make our way out of Maxon's suite and into mine. Maxon takes me over to my bed and we both sit down. He looked down at his watch. It was now 3 am. He turned towards me,

"I am going to have to go to a meeting. I don't know what time I will be done, but I want you to relax. You have already been through so much. I want you to just maybe take a nice hot bath, or shower, and then get yourself some sleep: if not for yourself, then for me." He said taking both of my hands into his.

"I will. I promise, just please hurry back." I watched him walk out the door. Truth is I wanted him to hurry back because I hate feeling lonely. It's like a darkness that creeps up on you when you least expect it. I know my family is completely gone. I don't even get any closure. Do you know how terrible that is for me? They said my family's bodies couldn't be recovered because they were all nothing but a heap of ashes. I have nothing from home, nothing to remember them by. I still to this day think that if I go back home (even though it's all burned to the ground) that I could walk into the smell of Mom's pancakes, even though they were thin and watery because we had to save as much mix as we could. That I could walk into the garage to find May and Dad doing what they do best and more importantly what they love, with that paintbrush and watercolors they made beautiful artwork from nothing but a blank canvas and their own two hands. I could still hear the thumping of Gerad kicking the ball up against the side of the house, because he didn't have anyone to play with. I remember how annoying that sound used to be to me, and now I would give anything and everything to hear that annoying monotonous sound once more. I collapsed into a sob. I hated when I cried, to me it just showed me how weak I was. I decided to take a hot shower. As I got out I didn't feel like combing and drying my hair. I knew it would be frizzy but I didn't care. I tucked my hair into a towel a fell into a restless, dreamless sleep.

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~Maxon's POV~

I walked out of the Princess suite. I hated leaving her alone when I know she needed me most, but I knew I would rather skip my father seeking me out on his own and causing unnecessary drama. I still think it is odd that the alarm tripped for "no apparent reason". Not once since the alarm was created and installed has it ever gone off without a reason. It has always had a reason it was set off. It just rubs me wrong; I can tell something was off with the whole situation. I was on my way to my Father's study. I hadn't told America, but I had requested a complete field report. It may be just me, but I had a very bad feeling with the whole situation regarding the murders of America's family. I rounded the corner and knocked on the door of my Father's study.

"Come in," my Father's voice sounding muffled through the door.

I walked through the door.

When I walked in, my father was seated at his enormous cherry desk. His expression was one of complete annoyance; like he couldn't wait for me to leave and let him get back to doing whatever he thought was way more important than investigating the brutal murders of my wife's family.

He gestured for me to sit in one of the two leather chairs that sit directly in front of his desk. As I took my seat, I wondered what the field reports would say.

"I am assuming you are here to pick up the field reports, you so conveniently requested on such short notice," my Father snidely remarked.

I hated it when he did this. He tries to belittle me every single chance he gets. Wouldn't you think he would cut me some slack, considering my wife's entire family was slain? He doesn't even seem to be in the slightest concerned about any of it.

I finally speak up, "Yes, you are correct. I came here to pick up the field reports that I "conveniently requested on such short notice."

He glared at me for mocking him, but he thankfully didn't give me any crap about it. He leans forward and grabs a black leather folder that has the Illean crest printed in silver on the front. He opens it and pulls out a packet of papers stabled together. He examined them to make sure they were the right papers, and he slid them across his desk to me with the flick of his wrist. I picked up the pretty large packet of files and started to get up, when my Father cleared his throat. I turned my attention back towards him.

"Tell America I am sorry for her loss," he said, and for half a second I thought I actually saw his eyes soften a little. In that moment he certainly wasn't the brute, mean, and hard going father that I knew growing up. It would have been nice to actually have a Father that loved me and was proud of me, instead of one who tries to point out my every flaw and weakness every chance he gets.

"I will," I mumbled as I got up and walked through the doors of his office; the same office that haunted many of my painful childhood memories.

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I promise you guys I will start updating from now on! The chapters will also be getting longer. Keep reviewing, that lets me know what you guys want in the next chapter!

Love,

~MFD