Memories were rushing through Maggie in the calculated way they often did, and not just the brief and vague pronouns she'd heard from the men who'd taken her picture. She recognized the woman's name from a paper she'd seen at home, a visit to her mother's office, an overheard conversation. This was the woman that her mother had been following, that had held a grudge against her. Maggie suddenly understood why she'd been taken, and she almost shivered. She'd been sort of hoping it was just a band of maniacs after money who'd stolen her by random chance. Because they'd obviously planned this out, and because there was something much bigger going on than a relatively simple ransom case, Maggie started to fear she wouldn't be getting out alive. Still, she wouldn't show it. She could be strong. She thought of Jasper- it was the sort of thing he would do, annoy his captor for the sake of survival.

"The name does sound familiar," she said, mockingly rubbing her chin as if she were thinking very hard. "Weren't you in that movie with Robert Pattinson?" Theresa sneered irritably.

"You can make your little jokes, but no matter how sarcastic you get you're still a prisoner," she retorted. Maggie hated admitting to herself that she was right; it might be fun to torment them, but at the end of the day she was still at their mercy. It was only her belief that Jasper and Henry were looking for her that kept her from accepting defeat.

"I wasn't being sarcastic," she said. "You look like a vampire."

"I think that's you," said Theresa. "Little dead girl." Maggie cringed. She thought again of her friends, but this time she was hoping that they hadn't been too upset over her "suicide". She hoped desperately that they'd realized the truth quickly.

"Nobody will believe that I really did that," she pointed out, trying to believe herself. "I'm a very happy person."

"No, Maggie," replied the older woman with a cruel smirk, "you're a very perfect person. Do you know what happens to perfect people?" Maggie didn't answer. "They crack. It happened to me, too."

"Oh, really?" said Maggie with a fake expression of mild surprise. "You committed suicide?"

"Maggie-"

"Please stop calling me that," she said suddenly.

"What?" asked Theresa. "I thought you preferred 'Maggie'."

"I do," she said. "With friends. You, on the other hand, can call me 'Miss WInnock' or ma'am." She regretted her words at once; Theresa was immediately in front of her, staring menacingly forward. Her breath smelled like fish, accentuating Maggie's comparison between her and a shark.

"You'd better watch your tongue, Maggie," she hissed. "Or you'll meet the same end your mother does." Without another word, Theresa left the room, leaving Maggie alone. She wrapped her arms around her knees.

"Mom…"

"Flashlights?" said Henry.

"Check," replied Jasper, tossing two red flashlights into a black duffel bag. They'd finally gotten away from dinner, which had been peppered with concerned questions from Jasper's father.

"GSP?" said Henry.

"GPS," corrected Jasper. "And check." He'd already entered the coordinates Maggie had given them.

"Escape plan?" said Henry, glancing at Jasper. He shook his head.

"Uncheck." They still weren't sure how to get out of the house and into the Smart without his dad noticing. "We could always wait until he's asleep."

"We don't have time to wait," responded Henry, peering out the window as if he expected midnight tomorrow to have arrived without them realizing it.

"Then we should tell him we're going someplace else," suggested Jasper. "But where?"

"You're supposed to know this kind of stuff," said Henry. "Where would two sixteen-year-olds be going after six on a Monday night?"

"I don't know… the library?"

"Doesn't it close at five?" asked Henry. He nodded slowly.

"But Dad probably doesn't know that," he realized.

"So, okay, we'll tell him we're going to the library," said Henry, zipping up the duffel bag. "And it's good, because I have a book I need to return."

"Okay, but you know we're not actually going?" Jasper reminded him.

"Right, right." He shook his head like he was trying to wake himself up. "I'm kind of distracted."

"I'm kind of distressed." He stood up, slung the duffel bag over his shoulder, and left the room. Henry turned off the light as he followed him out, taking one last look around the room.

Minutes later, they were speeding along the road in Jasper's car as night fell around them. Jasper kept shifting in his seat, tapping his sweaty fingers against the steering wheel. "Are you alright?" said Henry worriedly.

"Yeah, fine," he replied. "It's just that I'm pretty nervous already, and I get nervous when I drive without music."

"Well, put the radio on," said Henry. "I don't mind." Jasper leaned forward and flipped on the radio. Something by Korn blared through the speakers. Henry clapped his hands over his ears.

"Sorry," said Jasper, sliding the tuner forward until he found something that they both agreed on. It was an appropriate song for the moment: "The Distance," by Cake. The speedometer inched forward as he listened intently to the mechanical voice on the GPS.

He's going the distance
He's going for speed
She's all alone, all alone, all alone, in a time of need.

A/N: Those of you with Facebook, I made a quiz for "Which Unnatural History Character Are You?"