Warning: There are some stuff in here that may be a little too…iffy. Disclaimer: Man, I'm tired of righting out my disclaimers.

Assembly Day (n.) The day where the families of the girls at Spence Academy for Young Ladies come to visit, and see how improved they have become while us Gypsies watch and try to avoid the rude gardeners and stray croquet balls.

Galena hasn't been talking to me at all these past few days. She's been talking to her friend with the huge forehead, whose name appears to be Selma. They have also been talking to Peter.

I have no clue as to what those three talk about, but I know that it has something to do with me. Every so often, when Galena would look my way, I could see the rising uncertainty in her eyes, and I can't say it doesn't hurt. Kartik was right. I should have known better.

Peter seems to be on fire when he spits those lies about me. There is always an evil gleam in his eye. An eye that looks horribly familiar.

I try to pretend that I don't mind, but the urge to walk over there and demand to know what they are saying almost wins every time.

Especially on this day of all days. Further up, preparations for their Assembly Day are at their busiest and at the camp, many are still packing their things into their trunks or bags so that when the time comes, they will go to a warmer climate. It had just occurred to me that I have nowhere to go when they leave. I had to start making plans of my own.

Gathering up my nerves, I head towards the threesome. As soon as they hear my footsteps, they stop talking. They look up at me as if expecting me to give them something. I don't know what to say, so Peter speaks for me. "What are you doing here?" he demands.

He spoke for me not in the way I would have wanted. "Can't I join the conversation, too? It isn't a bad thing to do."

Peter shakes his head. "You wouldn't enjoy it."

"And why not?" I say, my ire rising.

Instead of answering, Peter stands up and pulls Selma up with him. "We don't have time to talk right now. The caravans need to be loaded. Come, Galena."

Galena slowly stands up. Our eyes meet for a second. Galena, why? My eyes seem to say for me. She looks at the floor and follows the others. Furious, I head the other way.

I had already helped with most of the caravans and I was free to do whatever I wanted for the rest of the day. I had decided earlier to find Kartik, but I thought better of it. He was still moping around the camp thinking about her. Rowan and Ithal were busy with the caravans and hardly had time to rest. Mother Elena had also been busy inside her tent making new charms and spells and I knew better than to disturb her. My only option was to finish the journal.

When I am certain I won't be missed for a while, I find a quiet spot by the lake and start to read. The journal opens to an entry that dated back to 1879.

September 3, 1879

Today was a horrible day, dear diary. Today, we had to flee for our lives once again. We have just found shelter on an island off the coast. It may be inhabited, but we know not. Saldania's house is in ashes behind us. I do wish that Dolo and his brother are safe back at our hut.

Saldania is gone now. She is dead and gone, trying to save our lives. Trying to save my little girl. I haven't named her yet, but now is not the time.

Saldania's husband was cruel and I am glad that he will be burning eternally, like he did in his bed. If only there was a real safe place to hide until all this is settled. I cannot go back home, for I know Techo, my husband, will chase me out. Sometimes I wonder what life would have been like if I had actually had another baby boy on that night of all nights. Would he have loved me the same? Anistasia has come back with herbs for my baby girl. She fears that the baby has something wrong, and she wants to solve that, but I know Anistasia. She has plans for my baby girl. And I fear that those plans may be the safest.

I know that soon, I will be going to England. Mother Elena is expecting me there and I cannot let her down. I can only hope that Techo is treating my little boys right. But I have a rising fear that he won't miss me.

There is no time to write more. I must help Anistasia explore the island.

Camille

I close the book. As soon as I do, images race through my mind. The burning hut. Could this be what she is talking about? Then it dawns on me. Anistasia and Saldania were the two girls mentioned entries back in this journal. Anistasia was the medicine woman.

And there was Camille. If this entry was written in 1879, the year I was born, and just days after my birthday, then that must mean…that Camille is my mother.

I soar through the pages, scanning for entries that may lead to this one. Why was my father angry at Mama for having me? Why did he chase her out? Was it because I wasn't a boy? There is nothing but other entries and pictures. Frustrated, I slam the journal shut. What did Anistasia and Saldania have to do with all of this?

I decide to find Mother Elena.

Like I predicted, she is in her tent. An aroma of spices hung in the air as she was bent over a small bottle of purple liquid. "Mother, do you have a moment?" I ask, holding my breath.

She looks up slowly. When she sees that it is me, she breaks into a smile. "What does Anya want to know?" she asks.

This was it. "Why did Camille visit you in England in 1879?"

Mother's face is instantly transformed as she looks past me into another world. "Trouble," she says. "Nothing but trouble."

"What do you mean?"

"Makendy suspected trouble. That is why he killed her."

I was confused. "Who is Makendy?"

"Saldania's husband." There is a gleam in her eye. "He suspected her of voodoo. That is why he wanted to kill her. He killed her so that the voodoo would stop." She looks at the bottle of purple liquid in her hand. "Anistasia and Camille had no choice but to run. Camille couldn't go back to her husband, for he threw her out. So she had to come here."

I gulp down the anxiety forming in my stomach. "Did Saldania actually…do voodoo?"

"No. No she did not." Mother Elena cocks her head. "She was an Order Priestess." The last word comes out in a hiss. "As was her mother, her sister and her pupil Camille."

They were part of the Order! Maybe for the same reason I was. The pieces were starting to fit together, but there was still a big piece missing. I decide to ask her one more question. "How does this connect with a burning hut?"

She probably didn't hear me, or she just didn't want to answer, but either way, she stays silent. "Mother?"

She goes back to her bottle of purple liquid, placing it on the shelf. Without another word, I step out of the tent.

It is getting dark, and further up at the school, I could see people out in the field of the school, playing croquet or talking while sitting on benches. The younger ones skip through them all chanting as they go. Inside the school, there are even more families, who have come to see their daughters. They sit at their tables, drinking and laughing without a care in the world. It's funny how life takes its turn on different people and still manages to be the same. Behind me, there is the never-ending sound of dogs barking, caravans being loaded and the quiet chatter of people knowing their plans for the future while ahead of me, people enjoy life to the fullest not worrying about tomorrow.

As I wander around, taking my time through the woods, an icy-firm hand grasps my shoulder. I turn around to face Peter once again. This time that Selma girl is by his side.

"It's a little late to be walking alone in the woods, now is it, Anya?" Peter whispers. His mouth is so close, that I feel his spittle in my ear.

I won't let him think that I am scared. "Take your filthy hand off me, Peter." I say in a low voice. "I don't even want to know where it has been."

"Why don't you use your witchcraft to make his hand disappear?" Selma spits back.

"I won't even bother to listen to you, Selma," I shoot her a glance. "You can be certain that you'll be punished enough for your lies."

Selma seethes at me, but I don't pay attention. Peter's hands have started to wander. "You may not want to know where my hands have been," he says in a low voice that gives me chair de poule. "But soon enough, you'll know where they'll be heading next." He grabs at my backside. I twist out of his grasp to his amusement and run as far as I can from him. Behind me, I can hear him and Selma sharing a laugh. Or is it my imagination?

I run as fast as I can and slow my pace a little when I reach a place near the campfire. How could I have been afraid of that boy? He's no threat to me. I can knock him down in a moment, and I wish I had! But there is something about him that startles me.

I keep on going heading towards my tent, but something is barring my way. Two people are barring my way.

"And where do you think you're going?" says a voice that is a little too loud. My arm is linked with another and I am spun around. I look up at my two captors. It is Rowan and Ithal. And they smell a little too strong.

"You're both drunk!" I yell, trying to escape from their grip. "Let me go!"

"Why?" Rowan says in his loud voice, almost stumbling.

"I need to go back to my tent!"

Ithal spins me around so that I am in his arms looking up at him. "You won't be needing to go back to you're tent," he murmurs. "My tent is that way." Those eyes look my up and down, ready to relive me of my clothes.

Terrified, I break away from him screaming "Get away from me, you drunk pervert!" For a moment, I think I see a sober reaction in his eyes, but I am probably dreaming for soon, he is joining Rowan in a chant sung in their language of Romany.

When I am within yards of my tent, I finally slow down to catch my breath. What is wrong with me? It is like I can't trust anyone anymore. But they didn't have a right to touch me that way. None of them did. But why was I so scared? I usually wasn't. But I wasn't always that brave either.

There is thunder overhead. When my breath is even, I look out toward the school. Everyone has gone inside as the clouds bring hints of rain. Everyone except one. Miss Worthington sits on a bench, holding a piece of paper in her hands. She doesn't do anything, she just sits there. There is another roll of thunder. Miss Worthington looks up and around until our eyes meet. Hers turn fiery for a moment, but I'm not afraid. When she sees that I'm not, the fire dulls. There is pain and sadness in those eyes and it's as if for a moment, we're at peace.

Then the rain starts to fall. We hold each other's gaze for a moment, then she looks down at the paper in her hands as the ink starts to spread.

I watch her for a moment longer, then I head back to my tent.

'Nuff said.

I personally think that this chapter is different than the other chapters in this story. Doesn't it feel different?

Thanks for all of you who are reading this story so far! It would be nice if you review, too! Or else I'm cutting out the romance in the next chapter! Yea, that's right! There's a lot, too!

With all due respect and who is still gagging over the image of Zac Efron being nominated on an imdb forum post to play our beloved Kartik (long story),

Capt. Corbin [shudders