"Killed? What? How?" Lizzie exclaimed. "I mean...but I saw the autopsy and everything, and it looked like..."

"I know what it looked like. Overdose, wanted to kill myself...fit right in with me being non-responsive in be bed all the time," Jo said matter-of-factly.

"Who?" Lizzie wanted to know.

Jo held her face in a cradle of her hands.

"The whole truth will come to you slowly," she explained. "I was going to try to show you the entire story at nights."

"I want to know everything. Besides, Matt has been kidnapped and is in major danger."

Jo's face immediately darkened.

"What happened?"

"Our house. It exploded, and Matt was believed to be dead, but they had evidence of him calling his girlfriend after the explosion, and I was watching his screen, and he was shot in the foot, and then the screen went black, and they called me to see you, and-"

"Shhh, honey, slow down. I didn't know," she comforted Lizzie, like only a mother could. "We need to combine whatever strength we have to help him."


-MEANWHILE-
Matt woke up from what seemed like a long slumber, with a piercing headache, and a still sharp pain in his foot. He still hadn't looked down at it to assess the damage, because he was afraid of what he might see.

He looked around the small space. Nobody was there, not even Sam. Immediately, Matt began to think thoughts of escape, but as he tried to stand up, it was all he could do just to fall back down.

There was no way he would be able to walk until he got some kind of medical attention. But still, he could not believe how easy Sam left it for him. All he had to do would be to crawl out of the small space that led to the remainder of civilization...

A stinging sense of electricity rang throughout his entire body. Of course Sam covered all of the bases. Matt knew his dad, and he knew that he was not stupid.

Matt slumped against an adjacent wall, and tears flowed freely down his face. He was going to die here. Never to see Victoria ever again, killed by his own father.


Gordo slowly walked out to his car, not really knowing whether he should have stayed and waited. But all he really wanted to do was get away from that house.

He wanted the Erica that he met at the mall. The one that stayed with him at the hospital. Not the Erica who was at the party. Alcoholic, possibly drug addicted, and self-pain inflicted. She was almost an issue that he didn't want to touch.

But as he turned the key in the ignition, he realized what he must do.

He quickly turned the car off, and ran back up to the doorstep. Without ringing the doorbell, or even knocking the door, he flung open the door to the house.

Erica had obviously awoken since his departure; she had changed into new clothing, and washed off her makeup. She was sitting on the bottom of the stairwell next to Jen, with a coffee cup in her hand.

Gordo impulsively knew what to do. He grabbed her by the hand, pulled her up to stand in front of him, and kissed her in the most passionate way possible to him.

"Erica McKenzie. I am willing to help you," he said, brushing her hair away from her eyes.

"Gordo, you look horrible," she replied, all the while giggling lightly. "And I don't need help."

Jen looked back and forth between the two of them with disbelief.

"Are you kidd-" Gordo started to exclaim, but he tried his hardest to soften his approach. "From what I saw last night, you were not a person who didn't need help."

"I think I'm beyond any sort of help you could offer me," she tried to say, but with fresh tears streaming down her face.

"I can offer you love," Gordo replied, wrapping her into a giant hug.

Erica broke away gently, pushing Gordo by way of her hand upon his chest.

"Gordo, I'll never be your Lizzie Mcguire. Sweet, innocent, loyal...that's just not me."

Gordo looked into her eyes.

"Maybe that's not what I want. That day I met you, I saw something in you...I want to get to know you better. And I want to help you."

Erica looked at Jen, who was running her finger along the rim of her coffee cup nonchalantly, as if she possibly did not want to be there.

"What do you think, Jen?" Erica asked. "Is he for real?"

The two of them shared an inside laugh of something that was unbeknowst to Gordo.

"I don't know, Ricca. What do you know about this guy?"

Erica gave Gordo a quick once-over.

"Full name, David Gordon. Best friend Lizzie Mcguire was killed in a hit and run accident. Tried to committ suicide. His whole school thinks he's crazy," Erica said, raising her eyebrows, and slightly grinning. "But that's just what my cousin told me."

"I know that he is the whole package: deeply and truly a nice guy, filmmaker, going to NYU, broken over a friend's death, and most of all, he seems to have a thing for me that I cannot understand."

"I say he's good," Jen remarked, taking a slow sip of her coffee, and gazing at Gordo. "I'll leave you two kids alone."

"Gordo, promise me something me something," she said quietly, almost whispering closely to his ear.

"Anything," he replied, patting her back as she moved closer to him.

"After you help me, don't discard me. We both need love."


BLACK CAT-BAD LUCK ROAD LESS TRAVELED-FROST 8-FOLD PATH 2 TIMES F WHOEVER COMES IN YOUR WAY UFO'S MIA-MISSING IN ACTION

Victoria gazed at the clues in front of her once again. And once again they seemed all too impossible.

Numbers and letters, individually written, seemed to be a large part of the "code" of which Matt was speaking. She had no idea what that meant, but she thought it would be worth it just to write those down.

82FUFOMIA...It didn't look like anything at all to her. She tried rearranging the letters, but the best she got was IM A 82(28) FUFO. She clenched her hands into fists; she was getting absolutely nowhere.

For a brief second, she thought a diagram would help, but all she got from that was a broken pencil.

"Agh," she softly exclaimed, looking at the broken point of her pencil.

She threw open numerous drawers in their kitchen, trying to find something else to write with, Finally she found a drawer that held various office supplies, and she grabbed a ballpoint pen. But when she tried to shut it, the drawer would not completely close.

There had to be something blocking it, she thought to herself, and she reached to the back of the drawer, closing her hand around a small packet of papers.

It was a letter addressed to Miranda Sanchez, from the Institute of Art and Fashion Design in New York. Victoria did not want to snoop around in her mail, but her curiosity got the best of her.

DEAR MS. SANCHEZ:

WE ARE PLEASED TO INFORM YOU THAT AFTER REVIEWING YOUR PORTFOLIO, WE WOULD LIKE TO INVITE YOU TO JOIN OUR FRESHMEN CLASS NEXT FALL...

Hearing the soft footsteps of someone coming around the corner, Victoria threw the letters back into the back of the drawer, back to their hiding place.

Miranda came and sat at the table where Victoria had been working on the clues.

"You're up early, little investigator. Find anything?"

Victoria shook her head quickly, vowing to herself that no one would ever find out what she found until she talked to Miranda about it herself.

But now was not the time. Danny was coming down the stairs, and baby Lizzie was screaming for breakfast.