Here's a long one, guys. So I'm not going to spend a lot of time dilly-dallying about with important speeches or anything. So…(Back in Canaan, the future looked rough; Jacob's family was finding it tough) Excuse me. So…

Disclaimer: Four of the characters are not mine. I am, however, proud to be the creator of the two new additions to this story.

Then he disappeared. Right in the middle of his sentence. It was weird. There were no bright lights or loud noises, he was just there and then he wasn't.

I looked over the other two guys, who were thankfully still standing in the driveway where I had left them. They were staring at the spot he had just occupied with, in Joren's case, barely concealed fear. Actually, Corinth didn't seem upset at all, but probably he was as nervous as Joren on the inside.

"What did you do to him?" Joren asked me, appalled.

"Nothing!" I said, maybe a little too forcefully. "He was talking to me when-

Neal seemed to materialize in front of the dark wooden wall of the shack where Kel was being held by some of Burchard's men.

She would have gasped if not for her gag. Nevertheless, Neal noticed her and rushed to her side, pulling the fabric from her mouth.

"Kel!" he whispered frantically. "Are you alright? What have they done to you? If they've done something to you, I'll-" Then he came to his senses, pausing in his growing tirade to ask his first (according to Kel) intelligent question. "How did I get here?"

"More importantly, where have you been? That's why Burchard has me here, he wants to know where Joren has gone. Classes have been cancelled so that they can conduct a search for you two. They've been questioning everyone." She looked at the floor, not able to meet his eyes. "Your father has been, well, he's upset. You need to go see him."

"But you're hurt," he protested, healing a small cut on her face. "What did they do to you?"

"They just asked me what you had done with Joren. They think you've taken him somewhere."

She was interrupted when a man poked his head around the door.

"Hey! Lou! Come take a look here at this!"

Another man came into the room. "Stan, that's the boy we're to be catching."

"I know it, Lou." Stan replied.

"Well, then. You can go first if you would like."

"Aw, no, that's alright. I don't mind being second. Buts thanks for the offer, anyways."

Through the entire polite conversation, Kel had been motioning to Neal to leave however he had gotten in and go to get help. But he had been watching the two men's well-mannered dialogue with interest. That is, until Lou shrugged good-naturedly and ran to Neal with a cry of rage, knocking him on the head and letting Stan tie his hands. Kel rolled her eyes and didn't fight the big man as Lou replaced the gag.

"Sorry, miss," he offered apologetically. "Orders are orders." He turned away from her and hollered, "Stan! Could you please go tell Master Burchard that we've found the other page?"

"It'd be a pleasure!" came the cheery reply.

Inwardly, Kel sighed. It had been a long day.

Amanda looked up from the computer screen and cast a quick glance out the window. They were all still standing there, except for Neal.

She smiled smugly to herself. So it had worked. They weren't paying attention to her house anymore, but to the spot where she guessed Neal had been before he disappeared.

Opening her window a crack, she could hear what they were saying. It was a good idea to stay up to date on what her, for lack of a better word, enemies (at least for right now) were doing.

Enemies. That's what they were. And it was all Taina's fault. For noticing her when she left the Starbucks and for knowing where her house was. It was a new feeling, hating an enemy. Especially an enemy she had created.

She leaned back over the keyboard and typed.

Not long after Stan

Amanda paused and glanced out at Taina once more, questioning her last thoughts.

Why had she decided Taina was such a foe? She honestly didn't seem to be much of a threat. The person that could hurt her most was Corinth. But why would he want to? She hadn't done that much. At least not in Neal's, Joren's, or Taina's case. Corinth was in for a lot, but nothing he couldn't handle. And they all wanted to go home. At least, Corinth, Joren, and Taina did. Neal was still upset about what he had read in Taina's books, but there was nothing he could do about that from where he was right now.

No. She stopped those thoughts and returned her fingers to their respective computer keys. She needed to stop them from meeting her, and then the story could go the way she had planned it. Just as soon as she got her notebook back.

-well, you saw, he, well, vanished." I gestured to the patch of crushed grass next to the mailbox.

"Are you sure she can't still be writing about us?" Joren asked me. "Because that doesn't seem like a normal happening."

"I don't know!" I cried, exasperated. "I'm not sure of much of anything right now!"

There was silence for a few moments. I mean, the world isn't very silent in Florida at 3'o'clock in the afternoon, with the cars racing around and the music of construction workers blaring, not to mention that you can practically hear the scorching beams of sunlight melting the asphalt. And this was what I was thinking about during that minute of quiet instead of concentrating my weary brain on finding an answer to my current problem.

But apparently, noise wasn't an issue for Corinth, since he said later, "If she can write about all of us, can't we write too? Not about her, since she's not a character, but can't we write about all of us and write Neal back here?"

I pondered this new idea. "You know, I think-

"He's right!" Amanda sighed, listening at her window to the conversation. "If I can write fanfiction, they can, too. That makes life a little more difficult."

-you're right! If she can write fanfiction, we can, too. That makes life a little easier." The sun seemed to shine a little brighter after I realized this. That fact didn't make me happier, though I couldn't be too upset about anything now that an end to this crazy period of my life was in sight. "Do you have any paper?"

"Check the bag." Corinth suggested. I could have kissed him.

"Got it." Plopping the bag on the ground, I sat down next to it and took out the notebook.

An author myself, I know how horrible it is to have someone write in your personal notebook. I also know how horrible it is sitting next to a roasting mailbox after seeing someone evaporate in front of your eyes and what it means to wonder if you will be next. So I pulled out a purple mechanical pencil and set it to the paper.