Thanks for all the great reviews last chapter guys! Just as a reminder, Lauren is a random character from one of my other multi-chapters (for those of you who didn't know who she was).

Here's chapter 11! It's a little bit shorter than I wanted, but I think the ending is good just the way it is. Enjoy! :)

Chapter 11: Ketchup, Blood or Both?

November 1, 2358
Province 12, County 5, Argentina
Buenos Aires Apartment Sector 98

"Oh aren't you just the cutest little thing!" Charlene squealed at eighteen month old Lizzie. Despite being under the curse, it seemed as if she knew Charlene already.

Lizzie picked up a ball and threw it as best as she could in Charlene's direction.

According to Willa, she could only say a few words but Charlene had yet to hear any of them. She wanted more than anything to hear her say something. Willa told her that Charlene was there when Lizzie was born and that she was named the godmother.

Now that she was spending one-on-one time with her supposed god-daughter, she wanted nothing more than to remember who she was. Despite everything that Willa told her, none of it clicked.

Charlene picked up the ball and rolled it in Lizzie's direction, when she heard the front door open. She glanced down at her watch and saw that it was 3:48 P.M. Willa didn't come home until 5, so it had to be her aloof husband.

Speak of the devil, Charlene thought as Spencer stumbled into the living room.

He nodded at Charlene to acknowledge her and walked right past the two of them into the bedroom.

Charlene shrugged and went back to playing with Lizzie. Lizzie looked up at Charlene with a confused look. Charlene's eyes went wide. That's not good.

"Oh no," Charlene scooped her up and started bouncing her up and down as she walked over to the kitchen to grab her something to drink. "You're not going to cry, Lizzie. We won't have that again."

She handed Lizzie the bottle of apple juice and she began to drink it. Charlene's shoulders slumped as she relaxed. Lizzie stopped drinking and looked back up at her again.

"Da-da?"

"No, sweetie," Charlene told her. "I'm Charlene." She said her name slowly so that she could emphasize each syllable.

"Ch-ch-arlie?" Lizzie slowly said, as if each syllable was painful and hard to spit out.

"Yes!" Charlene blurted out. "Yes! Charlie!"

Lizzie's confused look turned to a beautiful smile. Charlene could definitely tell that she was Willa's daughter based off that alone. Her light brown hair had a hint of red and her blue eyes always sparkled. Willa claimed that her daughter got her looks from her husband, but the memory of him seemed too painful for her to elaborate.

"Charlene!" Spencer yelled from across the house.

Charlene rolled her eyes. "What?"

"Come in here!"

Charlene rolled her eyes again and burst into his bedroom with Lizzie still sitting on her hip. "What do you want Spencer?"

Spencer ignored her and held out his arms to take Lizzie. "Come to daddy!"

Lizzie held onto Charlene tighter, mumbling something incoherent into her shirt.

"Stupid girl," Spencer mumbled as he crossed his arms. He looked up at Charlene. "Why don't you go out? I want some time with my daughter."

Something about the mischievous look in his eyes ran chills down her spine. Charlene took a step back from him. "I'm good."

Spencer stood up. He smirked at her, which was anything but good for her. "Okay, I see how it is. Lizzie, why don't you go run along and play. Charlene and daddy are going to have a little talk."

Lizzie shook her head. "I wanna be with Charlie."

"We don't always get what we want, Lizzie. Go."

Lizzie held on tight to Charlene's shirt, but Spencer managed to wrangle her from the shirt and lead her to the living room. Charlene tried to convince herself that he just wanted to talk about Willa. Maybe he wanted to do something nice for her and wanted help.

She glanced around the room and saw an unopened bottle of whiskey on the bedside table. Charlene gulped. This can't be good.

The bedroom door slammed, and she whirled around to see Spencer leaning on it. "I've been wanting to do this ever since you came home with that stupid wife of mine."

Before Charlene could defend Willa, he walked up to her and forced his lips on hers.

Charlene tried to push him off, but the grip he had on her arm tightened—threatening to cut off circulation.

He ended the kiss and pushed her down on the bed. He took off his shirt and moved in for another kiss. All Charlene could do was freeze in shock. As he moved in for that second kiss, Charlene stood up a little bit too fast and turned at just the right moment so that he would fall onto the bed without her.

He gaped at her and tried to stand up, but she placed her foot on top of his chest.

"Don't even think about it."

For a second, she thought she would be able to leave without having to worry about him. But then that second ended.

He grabbed her foot before she could move it and used it to toss her back off the bed. Charlene's back landed against the wall hard. She saw black spots in her vision, but she willed them to go away.

Spencer got off of the bed and started toward her. She stood up and grabbed Spencer's wrist, judo-flipping him over her shoulder. The sound of him hitting the wall sickened her, but she didn't feel any sympathy for him.

She turned around and put her hand on his chest, just to make sure he was still breathing—which he was. She looked him over very fast to see if there was any cuts, which there weren't.

Charlene heard Lizzie crying from the living room and she slowly exited the room, making sure to close the bedroom door quietly.

By the time she got to Lizzie, Willa was in the room comforting her crying daughter. Willa looked up at Charlene and gave her a confused look, as if to ask why did you leave my daughter alone and crying?

"What's going on?" She asked her.

All at once, the guilt of what she had just done came crashing down on Charlene. She plopped down on the couch and buried her head in her hands.

"He went after me, so..."

"So what?" Willa asked as she sat next to Charlene on the couch. She had Lizzie sitting in her lap and her free hand went onto Charlene's back.

"I…I kind of judo-flipped Spencer onto the wall." Charlene glanced up at Willa for her reaction.

Willa did the last thing that was ever expected: she laughed. Even Lizzie looked at her strangely.

"Why are you laughing?"

"I've wanted to do that for ten months now!" She leaned her head back onto the couch and continued to laugh. Once she had composed herself she patted Charlene on the back one more time before standing up.

"What do we do now?" Charlene asked her.

"Well, I think we've got a pretty good excuse to fake my death now!" She handed Lizzie to Charlene and scurried off to the kitchen. Charlene followed her.

In the kitchen, Willa was grabbing a bottle of ketchup and a large butcher knife. She hurried back into the bedroom and started spraying ketchup all around the room. But it wasn't random, it was in certain directions. She sprayed a lot of it on Spencer and the area around him. Some of it made it onto the bed, to make it look like he had been dragged from the bed to his current location. She sprayed some on the walls. She spilled ketchup on the knife, and placed it in Spencer's hand. She grabbed a t-shirt out of the dresser and smeared ketchup on it as well, laying it on the edge of the bed.

Charlene gasped when she realized what she was doing. She was making it look like Spencer had killed Willa. Willa turned to Charlene with a smirk on her face.

"Go pack as much of Lizzie's things as you can. I'm going to pack ours. Meet me in the car in fifteen minutes!"

"Where are we going?"

Willa stopped packing and turned to face Charlene. "We're heading back to the forbidden district, Charlene. It's time we get your memory back and defeat that evil witch."

To say Charlene was shocked was an understatement. She studied Willa's face and, for the first time since they had met a month ago, she was happy.

Who would've thought that having an unconscious husband and a fake murder scene would bring happiness to the most innocent girl Charlene knew?

Charlene gave her a smile, nodded, and left the room. She headed into Lizzie's room and started shoving stuff into a suitcase that just happened to be in the back of the closet. It was time to get her life back. She was determined to do so.

October 30, 2358
Province 6, County 20, Turkey
Third Street Bakery, Istanbul

"You know the plan?" Maybeck asked the random rebel soldier over the phone.

"You bet. See you back in the alleyway at noon." The soldier hung up the phone and Maybeck walked out of the bathroom and back to the table.

This morning, he was eating a nice breakfast with Adam Washington. Of course his partner didn't know this would be their last meal together, but Maybeck wasn't about to tell him that.

"Took you long enough," Washington scoffed.

"My mom called," Maybeck lied. He hated lying to his best friend, but it had to be done. Helping the rebel cause was the first of many lies to come, and now his fake death would be his last. He hated leaving his friend on a lie. He wanted to sit down and tell him everything about the past month.

He wanted to tell him about how the girl of his dreams was there at the forbidden district within arms reach, and he choked. He wanted to tell him about how all he had done for the past month was dream of her and plan how he was going to fake his death. He wanted to so badly it almost hurt.

"Never heard about you talk about your mom before," Washington said with a mouthful of donuts.

That's 'cause she's dead, Maybeck thought to himself. "Uh…she lives across the province. We don't speak much."

"How come?"

Dang, he's nosy.

"She wasn't married when she had me. When she finally met the 'perfect guy,' I was…uh…twenty…and she moved across the province and now we barely talk."

"Sad story bro," Washington put a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry 'bout that."

Maybeck brushed his hand off of his shoulder. "No big deal. So," he stood up and clasped his hands together, "let's get the patrol started."

Washington nodded. Maybeck headed to the car, nervously checking his watch as he went. It was now ten o'clock in the morning. He had to be in the alleyway at noon. He knew he could do it.

Frankly, he didn't have a choice.

With his gun held out in front of him, Maybeck slowly moved down the alley. It had taken a lot of convincing, but Washington was going around the long way, in case of a runner—which Maybeck knew there wouldn't be.

He heard the sound of someone standing on a leaf and he turned to the direction. Standing there was a rebel soldier, presumably the one he talked to on the phone earlier.

"You him?" He whispered into the empty alley.

Maybeck nodded.

The soldier waved him over and Maybeck slowly made his way over, so that the sound of his footsteps wouldn't echo throughout the alley, alerting Washington.

CLICK.

Maybeck turned around just in time to see a third person pointing a gun at his heart. He noticed Washington creeping up behind the man. Maybeck held up his gun to counteract the random gunman.

The man pointing the gun at his chest laughed. "You think this would work Maybeck?"

"How do you know my name?"

"I know all about you. I know where you're really from, who you really are, everything."

Maybeck clicked a bullet into position. His finger laid on the trigger, ready to push it at any second. "You're lying."

The gunman raised an eyebrow. His wily grin didn't settle well with Maybeck. He seemed to familiar. Why?

"Am I lying, Maybeck?"

Maybeck nodded to Washington, who proceeded to tackle the gunman from behind. But it was too late for Maybeck, for as he was being tackled, his finger pulled the trigger.

The impact of the bullet hitting his right leg above the knee knocked him over. Maybeck had been through a lot of pain before, but never anything like this.

"MAYBECK!" Washington yelled.

Maybeck heard the scurrying of feet through the alley, probably the gunman getting away, if he had to guess.

He noticed Washington hovering over him now, trying to apply pressure to his gun wound.

"I've got an officer down in the alleyway behind apartment block 15. I need a medic NOW!" He yelled into the radio.

Maybeck's eyes started feeling heavy. The pain was too much to handle. There was way too much blood being lost for just getting shot in the knee. He started closing his eyes, just for a quick nap.

"Maybeck, you stay with me!" Washington yelled before he slapped Maybeck across the face.

Maybeck tried to form a goodbye, but his throat was dry.

Despite his partner's orders, he slowly slipped into the black abyss and closed his eyes.

Duh...duh...duh...

Maybeck got shot? Hmm...is he going to make it? Is Washington going to figure out what's going on?

Who was the third gunman? Any ideas? (Hint: it's someone you've seen before either in my multi-chapters or the actual books.) I'd love to hear who you think it is! I want to know if any of you get it right!

Please review! I got 8 reviews on the last chapter, I know y'all can beat that! It's a challenge!

I'll try to have the next chapter up as soon as I can! It's got Finn and Amanda! HAPPY HALLOWEEN! :)