Yo, folks. Three chapters in three days. I'm pretty proud of myself. I forgot to tell you last chapter how touched I was when I read all of your reviews begging me not to stop. Well, I won't. I genuinely like this story, I was just concerned that no one cared about it - and my policy is, when people don't care about your writing anymore, it's time to stop. But apparently you readers do care, and I am just so happy right now.

Sorry for my rant. It's Chapter 20. After all, I wouldn't want to keep you waiting. There is some pretty sad stuff in here though. Well, actually, the whole chapter is pretty sad. But hopefully things will brighten up. I said hopefully.

Without further ado, Chapter 20!

I look at Four's text. no more questions. g2g to sleep.

Then I flop down on my huge, comfy bed and stare at my phone. Four Eaton's father is Marcus Eaton. Well, it's not like it's a huge mystery. I mean, I knew that Four's last name was Eaton. So why am I so shocked?

Maybe because Four's father is incredibly mean to him. Unless Lynn is lying – and I'm pretty sure she's not, Marcus Eaton, the most respected, selfless leader of our government, is very, very strict and does not even allow one minute's lateness.

At least it isn't real abuse, like physical abuse. I know Four can handle emotional/mental abuse. I've tried it. But one thing I know is he can't stand physical abuse (I figured that out right before he hospitalized me).

Why do I even care, though? Why is Four constantly on my mind? Why are his deep blue eyes always seeming to haunt me wherever I go?

Christina had dropped me off at my house a few minutes ago. She hadn't said a word, only "Bye, Tris. See ya tomorrow" in a short, brief way. Then she'd left.

Christina had seemed pretty mad. But this is something I need to do, so I go to my phone app and dial in Christina's number (she'd given it to me previously).

It rings a few times before a professional-sounding voice answers. "Hello, my name is Christina Kravitz, what can I do for you? This is possibly the wrong number. If you'd like to call fashion stylist Carrie Kravitz, her number is" –

"Christina, it's me," I interrupt, smiling despite myself.

I hear a sigh at the other end. "Tris, I'm busy right now. I'll call you back later."

She hangs up and I'm left wondering what happened.

Then I come up with a great idea. I text her, it's boy stuff.

Almost immediately, she calls me back.

"Tris, what is it?" she says when I pick up, and I smile even more when she sounds even a teensy bit excited.

"It's Four," I say after a bit. "Chris, he's driving me crazy. I can't get his face out of my head. I can't think about something without wondering whether Four's watching me. And the whole thing with Marcus being his dad … well, it's kind of freaking me out. I figured the best thing to do would be to call you, as you're kinda an expert on this kind of stuff."

Christina sighs. "OK, Tris, now is not the best time to consult me on boy stuff."

"But you just called when I texted 'it's boy stuff!'" I exclaim.

"I didn't even look at your text, Tris," Christina says and her voice is dead serious. "I called about something way, way serious."

There's no giggling, no laughing, no screaming in a teenager-ish way. This is Christina in work mode.

"What is it?" I ask, concerned.

"Your best friend is Susan Black, right?" Christina asks heavily.

"Yeah," I say uncertainly. "From Maine."

"Yeah, well, I just got this on the news and that's why I hung up previously. I was trying to muster up the strength to tell you." She pauses. "Tris, Susan's gone missing."

Those three words "Susan's gone missing" make my room tremble. I swallow, then ask, "When did it happen?"

"1:30 PM, Maine time. That's 12:30 PM, Chicago time for us. When we have lunch." She pauses again. "Weren't you on the phone with her during lunch today?"

"Yeah, and right after I told her I wasn't a spoiled brat – she didn't respond." My voice cracks and my mouth is dry. "I haven't heard from her since. Not a text, not a call, which is so unlike her, because after that I promised to call her tonight, and it's already really late. She should have asked me something by now. Why did the news just come in now?"

There's silence on the other end, then Christina says, "Apparently her parents felt that she was just out at lunch or something and only began to get worried at ten thirty. At eleven, they called the police."

I feel tears welling up in my eyes. "Any clues?"

"No," Christina says. "Except for a note left on the kitchen table – asking for ransom."

I have trouble holding in my tears. "For how much?" I barely manage to get out.

"A thousand dollars," Christina says soberly, and now I can't contain myself. The tears flow out of me, and I'm choking and sobbing with the weight of what has happened to my best friend. Susan has been kidnapped. Well, we're guessing. There is a ransom note left on their kitchen table after all. I can't control my flow of tears, for they are falling and falling. Little droplets turn bigger and bigger, making my pretty dress all soggy.

"Aw, you poor girl," Christina sympathizes, and then she hangs up. I cry even harder, wondering why she just left me like this. I'm curled up into a ball on my bed, choking out sobs. My heart feels like it is being broken in two. The selfless, beautiful girl I grew up with has been kidnapped. And I'm almost across the country from where she was taken.

The doorbell rings. I hear Caleb answer the door. He's probably with Cara right now, and that realization just makes me cry even more.

"Hello?" I hear him saying. "Oh, yeah, she's upstairs. Heard something like crying up there. She must have one of her Taylor Swift songs on."

Typical clueless Caleb. Then I cry harder because I'm being mean, and quite possibly I'm spoiled and rude again. Then feet are pounding up the stairs, and someone opens my closed door, but my back is turned, so I don't see who it is.

Almost immediately I feel someone stroking my hair. "It's okay, Tris," Christina whispers, hugging me. "I gotcha right here. You're safe."

"But Susan isn't," I barely manage say between all my tears, and Christina just hugs me tighter and whispers soothing things to me as I feel like I am crying my heart out.

Christina doesn't say it's OK anymore. She knows it isn't, and I appreciate that. But I think of poor Susan, gone. She might even be –

I convulse, crying even harder, practically screaming. No. She can't be. She can't.

Christina seems to read my thoughts. "Tris, she's not dead," she tells me, stroking my hair again, and then my brother barges in.

"Oh crap, definitely not a Taylor Swift song," he mutters, and hurries to my side. But I am lying on my side, not facing them, so I don't see the tall, blond figure standing awkwardly to the side – but then I turn my face and I do.

"Cara," I croak. "Hi."

Then I cry more. Tears flow. No one moves for a moment, until Caleb asks Christina quietly, "D'you know what happened?"

But I hear it, and then I hear the response.

"Susan's been kidnapped," she replies softly, and I wail. I want to tear myself out. Maybe you don't understand.

Susan and I grew up together. We were like sisters. Imagine your closest sibling getting kidnapped. That is how it is for me. Images float through my brain of Susan getting tortured, killed. Four is totally gone from my mind now. Susan has taken her rightful place as the person I am worried about the most.

Moving away from her was hard enough. We could read each other – tell what the other person wanted. I was spoiled, so Susan would usually be getting stuff for me and practically being my servant, but she had stuck to my side faithfully.

And now she is gone, probably forever.

I wail louder, clawing at myself crazily. How stupid am I? My (probably) last words to her were words that came out of my mouth when I was annoyed. Then I had hung up on her. She had been basically my servant for my whole life, and I had never told her how much I appreciated her. Now I would probably never get the chance.

I punch my pillow.

It feels good. I don't feel as sad anymore.

My eyes widen, and I temporarily feel better and stop crying. That punch clears all emotions from me, happy or sad, and I look at Caleb, Cara, and Christina, who are looking at me, half-surprised, and half-curious.

"Christina," I croak. "Do you have something to punch besides a pillow?"

She nods, looking concerned. "Well, no, not really, but we can go to the gym. It's open 24/7 and there are lots of punching bags. Would that help you?"

I nod slowly. "Yeah, I think so." I look at Caleb and take a deep breath. "Caleb, text Mom that I won't be home until late, maybe two o'clock in the morning."

"Tris, that's really late," he protests, but I shoot him a look and he quickly silences.

"Cara, can you try and find any more details or things that can possibly be traced down to Susan's disappearance and help us find her?"

"We're not going after her, Tris," Christina says, and her voice is really firm. I nod.

"I know. But we're gonna help the police find her by gathering as many clues as we can," I say seriously.

Suddenly, Christina's eyes light up. "Tris, you checked your texts and calls, but did you check your email? Susan might have emailed you," she says hopefully, and I frown.

"Susan never emails me," I say.

Christina shrugs. "It'll be worth it if there is an email, Tris."

So, I go to my laptop and login to my account. I don't use email on my phone.

No email.

I reload the page. Still no email from Susan.

Christina sighs. "It was worth a shot anyway," she says hopelessly. "Well, let's get going. Caleb, Cara, do what Tris instructed. We'll be at the gym."

Christina drives me there in her Ferrari. Turns out, she took it to my house. I sit shotgun, trying to contain the rest of my tears.

"You know, you probably should reapply your makeup," Christina says out of the blue. "You look like a vampire."

I glance in the rearview mirror and shudder. My lips, previously perfectly coated with lip gloss, have gloss dripping down from them and it has lost its sparkle. Mascara is running down my cheeks, and my nude-colored eye shadow got on my eyelashes and is being carried down my cheeks by teardrops.

"However, you are going to the gym," she continues. "So it doesn't really matter. But you probably should wipe it all off. No offense, girlie, but you look hideous."

I force a laugh. I do look hideous, but at this point I really don't care.

"C'mon, Tris. We're here," she says, and we get out of the car.

We walk into the gym.

Ooh. Did that make you sad? It kinda made me sad, but there's a total lack of drama in this story right now and I think stories without drama parts are kind of boring. So, this particular little episode of sadness might last a few more chapters. Please review!

Be brave.