Liz knew there was air in the room, but her lungs couldn't seem to find it. All she could do was stare.

She had been slapped and yanked around by her mother for most of her life, but never in Liz's memory had Roxy ever raised a hand to her younger daughter. Even if she'd felt the inclination, Liz never would have let her. But now, one stupid slip-up and...

Razor-sharp chunks of thick glass lay scattered across the dirty carpet, glittering like ice in the dim light. Patti lay at the center of the mess, her clothing frosted with flakes of broken glass, head resting against the crossbar of the table. For a terrifyingly long moment, she didn't move.

"Patricia?" Roxy's voice was fragile and very quiet. She looked like a lost child suddenly, tremulous and terrified. She stepped cautiously toward her youngest daughter.

Her movement was like an electric shock to Liz's nervous system. She jumped in front of Roxy, hands raised threateningly.

"Don't you dare," she hissed. "Don't you dare."

"Lizzy—"

"Don't call me that!"

Roxy looked stricken, but Liz didn't care. She turned and knelt swiftly next to Patti. Despite the care she took to avoid the cut glass, she could feel a few shards biting her knees through the fabric of her jeans.

"Hey." She touched Patti's face tenderly, fingers brushing aside a lock of her hair to reveal a deep cut on her forehead. "Can you hear me, Patti?"

Patti shifted, and made a whining noise in her throat. Liz felt a rush of profound relief that her sister was still breathing, but it was replaced almost immediately by terror, because she wasn't opening her eyes. She shook Patti's shoulder gently and called her name again, eliciting another moan of pain and a twitching hand, but not much else.

"Patti! Come on, wake up baby," she pleaded.

But Patti lay still.

Shit.

Liz's skin felt too tight, as if she was about to burst out of her body, and her heart was going way too fast. She couldn't think. She couldn't… she couldn't—

Gently, so gently, Liz lifted Patti up from the bed of glass she lay in, looping one of Patti's arms over her own shoulder as she wrapped her own left arm around her sister's waist. She got to her feet and pulled her sister vertical along with her.

Liz turned around. "You," she growled, surprised to hear how furious her voice sounded, because she couldn't even feel it. "You stay right. fucking. there."

Roxanne stumbled back and dropped onto the ratty armchair behind her, eyes still huge and too blue. Dimly, Liz registered that the violence of the moment, the fact that it was Patti and not Liz who was bleeding this time, seemed to have shocked her into stillness. She opened her mouth as if to speak as Liz was backing away towards the door, but there must have been something in Liz's eyes that stopped her, because she subsided back into silence before she could even start.

The door shutting behind them was an oddly final sound.

"Stay shut, will you?" Liz said absently to the lock, slipping into the Speech as her fingers brushed the metal doorknob.

She made it as far as the curb in front of their house in a daze, and then found herself standing lost with no idea what to do or where to go next.

Patti's head was lolling back against her shoulder, and it might have been the bad light from the greenish halogen streetlamp, but her color didn't look good. Liz wasn't exactly a first aid expert, but she was pretty sure the fact that Patti had been unconscious for more than a minute was bad. She'd seen a couple of people get knocked in the head in P.E. during her school days, and being unconscious at all was usually cause for fuss. But Patti still wasn't responding...

Where the hell was she supposed to get help for her, though? She didn't have a phone, couldn't call for an ambulance, and even if she did, there was no way she could afford it, but the emergency clinic at the shelter down on Plum was way too far to walk. By some miracle she was still holding her purse, so at least she had some cash, but—

Rose wasn't exactly the busiest street in Death City, but it wasn't a dead zone either; it wasn't shocking that a cab turned the corner from Ashburn not long after they stumbled out to the curb. Desperately, she flagged it down, and had yanked the door almost before the beat-up maroon sedan had come to a stop.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

Marie.

"Four twenty-five Gallows Avenue," she blurted out.

The words were out of her mouth before she even had the chance to think about it, but once she did, it suddenly made sense. The driver looked skeptically at her. "That's a residential street, lady. You sure you don't wanna go to a hospital?"

Liz shook her head. "Shut the fuck up and drive, will you?" she demanded.

The cabbie tilted his head with a resigned expression and floored it.

While the drive seemed to last forever, it was probably only nine or ten minutes; cab drivers in Death City drove like maniacs under regular circumstances, and she was certain the threat of bloodstains in the back seat was plenty of incentive to take even greater liberties with the speed limit. But no matter how fast he drove, it could never be fast enough to satisfy Liz, not while blood was still oozing from the cut on Patti's temple.

When the cab finally pulled up to the curb in front of the Steins' house, Liz threw a handful of fives and tens at the driver. "Keep the change," she snapped, something she'd never thought she'd say and never would have if she weren't in too much of a hurry to wait for him to count out dollars and cents.

Once she'd extricated herself from the cramped back seat, she pulled Patti's arm over her shoulder again and struggled up the walk. The rubber toes of Patti's shoes made a jittering sound as they dragged across the cement.

Liz was relieved, as they climbed the steps, to see a light on in a ground-floor window. Reaching out with her free hand, she rang the bell three or four times and then proceeded to pound on the door with a closed fist.

"Come on come on come on come on come on!" she hissed rapidly through gritted teeth, shifting anxiously from foot to foot.

Through the panes of glass at the top of the door she saw the hall light flicker on, and heard a muffled "What on earth…?" as Marie opened the door.

It only took the older woman a moment to recognize the situation. "Oh god, Liz! Is this your sister?" she asked.

Liz nodded mutely.

Marie wasted no time, rushing through the door to scoop Patti up in her arms. Despite being so tiny, barely bigger than Patti herself, she had no difficulty lifting the girl up bridal style and carrying her quickly down the hall.

"Frank!" she yelled. "Frank, get out here, quick!"

Liz followed her to the living room and watched as she laid Patti on the sofa, sliding one of the throw pillows beneath her head with easy hands. Marie knelt down, parting Patti's hair with gentle fingers to inspect the head injury. Liz hovered nervously behind her, battling the urge to push her aside in order to be closer. Patti needed Marie much more than she needed her sister at the moment.

Once Patti was settled, Marie looked around with a worried frown. "Oh where is he- FRANK!"

"I'm right here, no need to shout," he said lightly as he stepped into the room, but his expression turned serious as he spied the unconscious girl on the couch.

"Frank, this is Liz's sister," Marie said, rising gracefully to her feet as she gestured to Patti. "Look her over, will you? I need to know what I'm dealing with before I get to work."

Frank nodded and strode over to one of the end tables. He slid open a drawer and pulled out a pen light and, of all things, a stethoscope, leading Liz to wonder whether he just kept those things stashed around the house. She didn't know him very well, but it seemed like something he would do.

As he approached the sofa, Marie took Liz's hand lightly and pulled her a few paces away. "Give him some room to work," she murmured.

Frank pulled on a pair of rubber gloves, also produced from a box in the end table, and bent over Patti. He checked her pulse and her breathing, then dabbed at her nostrils. He raised his gloved fingers closer to the lamp, and Liz saw that there was some kind of clear fluid on the latex. He frowned, and her stomach dropped.

"What happened to her?" he asked.

"She… I… my mother," Liz mumbled, and let out a shaky breath in an attempt to steady herself. Beside her, she heard Marie gasp. "She was pissed at me, and Patti tried to get between us, and-" She shrugged helplessly.

"I see. She hit her head, I assume?"

Liz nodded.

"How long has she been unconscious?"

"Um… maybe twenty, twenty-five minutes?" Liz guessed. "She was kind of mumbling a little in the cab but then she was out again."

Frank's eyes narrowed as he looked back at Patti. He thumbed open her eyelids to check them with his little light, expression unreadable as he continued to look her over.

It took him maybe two more minutes to complete his assessment, and Liz could hear her pulse in her ears the entire time. She felt lightheaded and halfway wondered if she was going to pass out next.

Eventually, Frank straightened up, snapping off his gloves as he turned to face them. "Well," he said, "the good news is that her pulse is regular and there's no sign of a spinal injury."

"What's the bad news?" Liz asked.

"She has a concussion. A severe one. Marie?" He looked to his wife.

"Right!" she said, and moved to Patti's side with a businesslike air. She held out a hand and her humongous manual came zooming to her from another room; she caught it deftly and turned an armchair to face the sofa. She sank down into it and opened the manual smoothing her hand over Patti's forehead.

Liz watched her anxiously, and would have gone to sit next to her on the floor, but Frank laid a restraining hand on her shoulder. "My wife will need to concentrate," he said. "It's best to leave her to it."

Terrified and mute, Liz nodded and allowed him to steer her to the kitchen.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked. "Tea? Coffee? Maybe cocoa? Bear in mind that I don't actually know how to make cocoa."

Seeing as it was about a thousand degrees outside even after nightfall, Liz didn't even bother to dignify that with a response. "No. Um. Will my sister be okay?"

Frank sat down at the table. "Take a seat," he said as he propped his leg up on an adjacent chair. Liz obeyed numbly. "Alright. In simple terms, your sister's brain has slammed into the inside of her skull- rather hard, I might add. Your mother must have one hell of a backhand."

Liz was pretty sure that if looks could kill, Frank Stein would be a sizzling pile of radioactive ash right about now. Part of her also really wanted to cry, but she wasn't quite ready to break down yet.

"That was in bad taste," he said after several long, uncomfortable moments of staring at each other. "I suppose I should have accepted by now that the world doesn't appreciate dark humor like it used to."

Liz nearly hissed at him in sheer frustration. "Is Patti going to get better?"

"Yes, of course," he said. "I won't lie to you, her injury is very serious. Brain injuries are always tricky to manage, even with wizardry on your side. The brain is a complex organ, and the debate about where the flesh and blood ends and where the individual- the soul, if you will- begins is one that has been going on for millennia. Healing the physical seat of thought and memory is a difficult undertaking."

"But Marie can do it, right?" Liz asked anxiously.

Frank knocked his foot idly against the leg of the table. "Naturally. Marie is one of the best healers of the last century- among humans, anyway. It's likely to take her several hours, but her work is far more reliable than contemporary medical science."

Liz nodded, surprised to find that her heart pounded just as hard from relief as it had from fear.

"Speaking of which," he continued, "may I ask why you decided to bring your sister here instead of the hospital?"

She picked nervously at a snag in her ugly Starbucks polo. "Couldn't afford an ambulance. Or a doctor, for that matter," she said, honesty dripping out without her consent.

Frank leaned back in his seat, and his glasses flashed in the glaring kitchen lights, momentarily obscuring his eyes. "No health insurance, I'm guessing? Ah, well, that's the state of things in this country."

Liz just shrugged. Talking politics was outside both her current emotional capabilities and her range of interests… and it also seemed in pretty bad taste while her sister was unconscious in the other room.

"In the state of Nevada," Frank said after an excruciatingly long pause, "in most states, as a matter of fact, school teachers are mandated reporters."

"Huh?"

"Individuals whose careers bring them into contact with vulnerable demographics— children, the elderly, the chronically ill— are usually required by law to report suspected incidents of domestic or sexual abuse," he explained.

Liz took a minute to jump from his abstruse attempt at clarification to the point he was driving at. "Wait…" she said slowly. "Marie's a teacher. So are you saying that…?"

Frank nodded. "We'll need to place a call to Child Protective Services."

Ice water spilled down every nerve in her body as she processed what that would mean. Her mind flashed to Amanda Avery, a former classmate who'd been in seven different foster homes by the age of twelve, and to every other system horror story she'd ever heard— and she'd heard plenty.

"You can't do that!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet so fast she slammed her knee painfully hard into the underside of the table.

He shook his head. "I'm afraid there isn't much choice in the matter," he said. "It's the law, Liz."

"But you're wizards!" she exclaimed. "Isn't wizardry all about… about breaking natural laws and stuff?"

Frank's expression was neutral, but there was some kind of sadness in his eyes as he said, "That's not how it works. We're not above the rules of our homeworlds, Liz, wizardry doesn't give us greater rights than any other person. We just have greater access to the intimate nature of the universe."

"Well what fucking good is that if you're just going to take my sister away from me anyway?!" she demanded. "That's why I took the stupid fucking Oath— so I could protect her!"

"I know," he said solemnly. "But sometimes ordinary human measures can be just as—"

"I don't want to hear this," Liz interrupted, hands balled into fists at her sides. She turned and walked out of the kitchen, striding down the hall towards the front door.

He was following. She could tell even though his steps were so light the floorboards barely creaked, and she knew for sure when he said, in a surprisingly gentle voice, "Elizabeth, I really think this will be for the—"

"If you say 'for the best,' I am going to skin you alive, old man," she growled, and slammed open the front door. She pounded down the front walk, sensible work shoes making hardly a noise on the pavement.

"Liz!" Frank called after her, "Come back!"

Liz didn't even pause. "I'm going for a walk," she growled. "I'll be back in awhile."

That was more consideration than she had ever given Roxy.

Her long legs ate up the pavement and carried her mindlessly through the dark; she was too deep in the sickening mire of her thoughts to attend to where she was walking.

Patti was hurt. It was Liz's worst nightmare come true. Being kicked around and belittled by their mother was not new territory for her, but Patti was younger and smaller and not familiar with just how rough Roxy could really be. Liz had worked so hard almost from the moment Patti was born to shield her not just from their mother's unpredictable temper but from having to witness just how scummy the woman who'd given birth to them really was. She'd failed pretty spectacularly at the latter, but she had always done a decent job at keeping Patti physically safe. But then in one stupid second…

Liz wasn't noble enough to blame herself. This was on Roxy, all of it, but she couldn't stop herself from running over the last few days, trying to find something she could have done differently, anything—

She broke into a run. Misplaced guilt and impotent anger choked her, and the glowing windows of the nice homes in this neighborhood mocked her. People who lived in houses like that didn't beat their family members, and she could hear their judgment in the slap of her shoes on the pavement.

Liz ran until she was winded, then pulled up, bracing herself against the pole of a stoplight to catch her breath. She must have run at least three-quarters of a mile, she wasn't certain, and looked up at the street sign to find out where she was; she was only slightly taken aback to realize that she was at an intersection with the avenue Tsubaki lived on.

Tsubaki.

The thought of the other girl gave her some clarity. Somehow in all the horror and the chaos, Liz had forgotten about wizardry. Or, more precisely, she had forgotten that she could use wizardry. Having Marie save Patti's life was all well and good, but Liz hadn't been able to sit back and let an adult solve her problems for a long time. She'd be damned if she sat back and let Patti be taken away from her, and wizardry was the best tool in her arsenal right now.

Unfortunately, though, her manual was back at the apartment, forgotten in the heat of the moment; no matter how good she was getting with the Speech, she wasn't going to achieve much without some help.

Well, that settled it. She was going to visit Tsubaki.

She jogged down the street until she reached the tidy little house where her friend lived, and paused on the sidewalk in front of it. She hadn't actually met Tsubaki's parents, and anyway, knocking on the door after eleven seemed like the fastest way to get sent packing.

Instead, she crept around the side of the house, peering up at the window she was pretty sure belonged to Tsubaki's bedroom. The light was still on, so she figured getting her attention wouldn't be too hard. She plucked a rock from the ground and lobbed it at Tsubaki's window, making a surprisingly loud clanking noise as it struck glass. She tossed another rock, and was bending down to find a third when the filmy white curtains were pushed aside and the glass pane was raised.

The sight of Tsubaki, lit from behind by the light from her bedroom window, was an unexpected comfort. She looked angelic in silhouette, with her hair gleaming in the warm light.

"Liz!" she called down. "What are you doing here?"

"Tsubaki… I…" Words failed her again.

Tsubaki seemed to realize something was wrong. She murmured a few words in the Speech, popped open the screen, and walked down from the second floor on a staircase formed of solid nitrogen pulled from the air. She stepped lightly onto the grass. "What's wrong?" she asked gently.

"It's my sister," Liz said helplessly. "We got home tonight and Roxy was… our mother, she… she was so mad because I forgot to— whatever. She was so pissed and Patti got in the way, and—" Her throat closed up and she choked off the end of her sentence. The adrenaline had faded and left her defenseless against the reality of the situation as it crashed down on her. She shook her head helplessly.

"Oh no," Tsubaki gasped, covering her mouth with a graceful hand. "Will she be okay?"

Liz shrugged. "I guess. Marie…"

It didn't seem to matter that she couldn't find the words to explain further. Tsubaki reached out to her and engulfed her in a warm hug. It was more comfort and affection than Liz could remember receiving from anyone, Patti excepted, and something broke inside her. She clung to Tsubaki, throwing her arms around her as she burst into tears. She couldn't even bring herself to be embarrassed about it. There was no room for anything but fear and grief and bone-deep exhaustion.

Tsubaki, to her unending gratitude, didn't speak. She didn't shush her or make bullshit promises that everything would be okay. She just rocked her gently, stroking her hair in empathetic silence.

Liz wished she could say she wasn't a crier. She wished she could claim to bear through the bitter injustices of her life with iron grace and a stoic face, but it wasn't true. In the heat of the moment, she did what she had to do and always had, but afterwards…

Well, the fact that she was sobbing on Tsubaki's shoulder spoke for itself, didn't it?

But her friend's gentle affection steadied her as easily as it had cracked her open, and it wasn't long before she was pushing Tsubaki away, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her jacket and thanking every Power she could imagine for the miracle of waterproof mascara.

"Thanks," she mumbled abashedly.

Tsubaki nodded, and her eyes were warm even though her expression was somber. "Did you say Marie was taking care of Patti?" she asked.

"Yeah. Figured wizardry would be a better bet than a hospital," she said. "Cheaper, too."

"That's smart. Marie can fix practically everything," Tsubaki affirmed. "Is she still working on her?"

Liz shrugged. "Probably. I needed to get some air, so…"

Tsubaki reached out and touched her arm lightly, a soft show of support. "I can drive you back there in a little bit, if you want."

Liz twisted her mouth into a sort-of smile that was probably more like a grimace and tilted her head in acknowledgement and silent thanks.

"What did your mo— I mean, what's wrong with your sister?"

Liz almost smiled at Tsubaki's floundering attempt to politely skirt around the domestic abuse elephant. Almost. "Concussion. Frank said she'll be okay, but…"

"Head injuries are scary, even with wizardry hedging your bets," Tsubaki concluded for her.

"Yeah, but that's not the worst of it. Apparently since Marie's a teacher she's a 'mandated reporter' or whatever," Liz said, with liberal use of airquotes. "So I guess she's gonna call CPS on us."

"You mean Child Protective Services, right?" Tsubaki asked, brow furrowing in confusion. "But wouldn't that be a good thing? If your mother is like this—"

"Don't pretend you know jack shit about our situation," Liz snapped. She only felt a little bit bad at the sight of Tsubaki's stricken expression.

"You're right, I'm sorry," Tsubaki said. "Can you explain things to me? Maybe I can help."

That was what Liz had been counting on. "If the police comes knocking, there's no way Roxanne'll be able to get her shit together; Patti and I will get shoved into the foster system, and we won't be kept together. I've known kids who were separated from their siblings before. It's not—" She cut off as a wave of horror at the anticipated loss broke over her. She floundered, cast adrift, and all she could find to say was, "I can't lose Patti."

Tsubaki smiled, bittersweet. "That much I can understand. I can't imagine losing Masamune."

"Yeah."

Silence fell for a moment, both of them sinking down into silent reflection. Eventually, Tsubaki broke the momentary calm. "Come inside. Standing out here is no good." She began climbing back up to her window, waving for Liz to follow her.

Liz hopped up the barely-visible staircase behind Tsubaki and into her bedroom. She was relieved to realize that she had presence of mind enough to remember to take off her shoes; the shock was starting to wear off. She plopped down on the desk chair while Tsubaki settled down cross-legged on her futon.

"What do you want to do?" she asked.

Liz shrugged. "Not sure. Make Roxy less of a bitch so CPS won't take us away?"

Tsubaki shook her head. "Bad idea. Psychotropic spells are very dangerous. They don't last, and the backlash on the wizard can be really bad."

Liz frowned. She hadn't actually read that chapter of the manual. Every time she looked for it, she found herself getting distracted by other things. "Guess that means erasing Marie and Frank's memories is off the table too, then?"

Tsubaki made an apologetic face.

"Well shit, what am I supposed to do, wave a fucking magic wand like yours and make it like it never happened?" she snapped, flinging herself back in the chair in disgust.

"If you went back in time, maybe," Tsubaki said wryly.

It was probably meant as a joke, but it sparked a memory from her very first day as a wizard, when Frank had talked about time travel. "Wait a minute. What if I did go back in time?" she asked, sitting up sharply.

"What?!"

"I could stop it from ever happening at all!" Liz said excitedly, hope swelling within her. "And that would be better for Patti, too, right? I mean, Marie can fix her physically, but—" But nothing can take away the fact that her mother almost killed her. "And it's possible, right? We can set up something like that, can't we?"

The other girl fiddled nervously with the edge of her blanket. "I'm not… I mean, it's possible, but are you sure it's a good idea?"

"Why wouldn't it be a good idea?" Liz demanded. "It's the best idea!"

Tsubaki looked pensive. "Well, for one thing, I do not think you can talk to your past self, and you would need to do that to make it work. You can't just go and… and get your mother out of the house or something, either, because if you did, nothing would happen, so you'd have no motivation to go back, and if you don't go back, then Patti gets hurt and… well, you get what I mean, right?"

Trying to work through it made Liz a little dizzy, so she could kind of see the problem. But like hell was she going to give up just like that. "Okay, but what if I just went back to this afternoon and told you what happened?" she suggested, staring intently at a spot on the rug as she formed her plan. "Then past-you could go get past-me and tell me about it, right? I wouldn't have to talk to myself, you could just bring Patti and me back here and, um… tell me to go back in time to tell you about it? Would that work?"

"I guess it makes sense," Tsubaki said slowly, but she still looked reluctant. "I don't know, though. This makes me nervous. Timeslides are usually managed really closely by seniors or advisories, and there's no way we'll get Mr. or Mrs. Stein to sign off on this."

"Do I look like I give a shit?" Liz demanded, leaning forward to look Tsubaki right in the eye. "This is my baby sister's entire future at stake!"

Tsubaki held her gaze for a long moment, indigo meeting cornflower as she evaluated Liz's defiant look. After a few slow heartbeats, her posture slumped and she dropped her eyes. "Alright, I'll help," she said softly.

Liz nodded, feeling oddly triumphant. "Okay. What do we do?"

Twenty minutes, five sugar cubes, a silver teaspoon, and a pair of D-cells later, they were sitting on Tsubaki's floor, cross-legged, as Tsubaki copied the words of the spell out of her manual onto a piece of notebook paper.

"I still don't think this is a very good idea," she said, but handed the paper over to Liz anyway. "There's a lot that could go wrong."

Liz was so far beyond caring. She snatched the paper from Tsubaki's hands and skimmed over it eagerly.

"Does your name look right?" Tsubaki asked. "I just used the shorthand from your first spell, but with how much has happened today, your name might've cha—"

"No, don't worry, it's fine," Liz said with a cursory glance at her name. "Let's do this."

"But have you checked—"

"It doesn't matter," Liz said. "I'm sure you got it right. You're the prodigy and super talented at this shit, right?"

"But—"

She huffed loudly, drowning out Tsubaki's objections. "Look, let's just get this done," she growled.

Reluctantly, Tsubaki got to her feet, extending a hand down to help Liz up as well. They stood side by side in the middle of the room, and Liz found herself thinking, nonsensically, it was a shame that Tsubaki couldn't come back with her. She could have used the company. But that wasn't going to work. Tsubaki was doing enough— almost more than Liz was comfortable with— just helping her with this. She didn't want to be any more in debt to the other girl.

One second of eye contact, a tiny nod from Tsubaki, and together they spoke the opening phrase of the spell.

They had never worked a wizardry together. They had coached each other through practice sessions (well, more like Tsubaki coaching her, with Liz occasionally correcting her grammar), but this was the first time they had ever joined their voices together in a spell, and Liz found the experience intoxicating.

That overpowering sense that the universe was leaning in close to listen to them, the tension snapping in the air, was magnified a hundredfold, but with Tsubaki's voice joining in the song, with their words melding together in a perfect harmony, matching rhythms… the silence that cocooned them didn't feel oppressive as it had to her before. It felt joyous, like champagne in her bloodstream, and it stripped away all her fears and world-weary anger for a fleeting eternity. She wanted, irrationally, to stay in this moment, matching words with Tsubaki, forever.

Before she could even completely process the feeling, the spell was reaching the crescendo, specifying the time coordinates she was aiming for, and something else caught her attention, something that wasn't quite right in the phrasing, but—

And then the spell took hold, snatching up her fragile body and ripping it free of time. Everything went dark and light at the same time as space distorted and she was flung violently away from reality.

The last thing Liz saw before she was torn away was Tsubaki's face, blue-violet eyes surprised and fearful as the world winked out.

Author's Note- Chapter 4 is the last section that is completely finished. Chapters 5-7 (plus epilogue) are partially complete, but piecemeal, so, as previously noted, they will be available as soon as I can possibly get them wrapped up. Stay tuned for the rest of DITWW!