I didn't intend to post this so soon after the first chapter, but it's another short one, and I have a small request. I'm in need of a second opinion regarding the third chapter (which I'm at least half-way through) but I don't want to give out any details ahead of time on here or on my Tumblr. If you're willing to give me that second opinion, send me a PM on here and let me know. In the interest of not giving out too many spoilers, I'll go with the first person I hear from. Thank you in advance!

"Welcome to Hawaii, Miss McKendrick."

Meg smiled tiredly at the flight attendant she passed as she stepped into the terminal. "Thank you."

Purse and backpack in tow, Meg headed for the exit, her eyes scanning for a single-user restroom. She needed a location where someone was unlikely to notice her entering and exiting the restroom. Upon finding her desired location, Meg stepped into the small but private space, locking the door behind her. Satisfied no one would be able to walk in on her, Meg removed her contacts (the glasses had been removed in Los Angeles at her first stop as Meg transitioned from 'Angela O'Hara' to 'Hayley McKendrick'), wig, and wig cap. Pulling out the ponytail holder, she allowed her naturally long hair to fall down her back as she dug through her backpack for a brush to neaten it up.

A hoodie would have been preferable, but it was summer in Hawaii, and Meg suspected that particular article of clothing would make her stick out like a sore thumb. She did opt for a simple wardrobe change, trading her white t-shirt and plain jeans for a spaghetti-strap tank and khaki shorts. A pair of sunglasses slid on top of her head like an impromptu headband, and Meg tucked her discarded items neatly inside her backpack before pulling out a new ID and debit card.

Goodbye, Hayley McKendrick. Hello, Mary Claire Andrews.

The makeup stayed to keep up appearances, particularly since this identity was more of a stretch. According to her Ohio driver's license, 'Mary' was eighteen years old. Even with the makeup, Meg looked young for eighteen, but the age was necessary to avoid issues with obtaining lodging. Renting a car was out of the question – Meg couldn't drive – but hopefully Honolulu would have decent public transportation while Meg figured out her next steps.

Her most immediate concern was finding a place to sleep. She'd forced herself to stay awake on the plane in spite of her fatigue, and although it was 9:30 p.m. Hawaiian-Aleutian Time, it was 3:30 a.m. back in New York and Meg wasn't sure how much longer she'd last.

Saying a silent prayer to remain safe, Meg collected her belongings and left the confines of the restroom to catch a cab.

The next morning, Meg awoke feeling much more refreshed. Sitting up on the bed, Meg glanced around her moderately-priced hotel room, wondering just how long she'd have to stay there. She'd reserved the room for a week, but there was no telling whether that would be sufficient time. With this identity, Meg could easily secure a room at another hotel, but she hated the idea of having to hop around. Of course, if she needed to stay past a week, it would probably make more sense to go to an extended stay place where she could have somewhat of a functional kitchen so she wouldn't have to eat out so much. Her current room did have a mini-fridge and a microwave, so Meg figured she could at least get some milk and cereal to take care of breakfasts and some frozen meals for other times.

The absurdity of a fourteen-year-old having several fake identities and planning how to survive on her own in another state, outside the continental U.S. no less, using one of those identities was not lost on Meg. She'd questioned her mother numerous times why she'd needed this kind of plan, and all Cynthia had said was that it was a 'backup plan' for Meg's safety. The girl was beginning to suspect her mother was much deeper into much more nefarious dealings than she'd ever suspected.

Getting dressed and reapplying her makeup, Meg moved to open the blinds, allowing sunlight to pour into the room. She was on the third floor and had a balcony, which afforded her a bit of privacy while being able to enjoy the natural light from outside. She peered out the sliding glass door that led to the balcony, appreciating her view. Even downtown, Meg could see the lush green hills and turquoise water in the distance. Hawaii was just as gorgeous as Meg had imagined.

She supposed the first thing she needed to do for the day, after enjoying a quick continental breakfast downstairs, would be to get some new clothes. She had the clothes she'd worn from New York to Honolulu and then the clothes she'd worn from the airport to the hotel. Meg did have a lightweight hoodie, just in case, but it was entirely too hot to wear anything of the sort.

Like her backpack, her purse also had a hidden compartment, and Meg used that hidden compartment now to tuck away her alternate IDs and debit cards, depositing her cards for 'Mary' in a wallet. Leaving her alternate IDs in her hotel room would have been easier, but her mom had warned her to keep them in the safest place possible, and if someone gained access to her hotel room while she was out, it could be a disaster.

Slipping on a comfortable pair of sandals, Meg positioned her purse so the strap crossed her chest and grabbed her sunglasses and room card before heading downstairs to grab something to eat.

Several hours later, Meg strolled along the sidewalk, a clothing bag in each hand. The weather was gorgeous and the bags weren't unreasonably heavy, so she wasn't in any particular hurry to return to her hotel. As a result, she'd chosen to disembark the bus several blocks away from her stop.

She felt an abrupt burning sensation on the side of her leg, just above her ankle. Her first instinct was to use her opposite foot to rub against the area as if it would eliminate the discomfort. Taking a few more steps, Meg sat down on a bench and set her bags beside her so she could take a look at her leg. It continued to burn, but Meg couldn't find a mark on her leg. It was odd, but Meg figured she'd take another look when she returned to her room.

However, Meg only made it another block before things began to rapidly go downhill. A wave of nausea flowed over Meg and she noticed a tightness in her chest. Breathing deeply, she frowned as her throat began to tighten. She glanced down at her leg to find a mottled red lump in the middle of a sea of smaller pink patches. Recognizing the seriousness of the situation, Meg dropped her shopping bags in the middle of the sidewalk as she desperately dug through her purse only to realize what she was looking for was in her backpack in the hotel room.

Panic coursed through her body as Meg bent over, shaky hands pressed against her thighs as she struggled for a deep breath.

"Hey, are you okay?"

She lifted her head, but her rapidly swelling eyes had a hard time making out much more than the outline of a figure. "Ants… allergic…" she wheezed out.

Meg could hear garbled speaking for several long seconds before she felt her legs give out and her world went black.