"So what exactly does it entail to work undercover?" Lizzie asked. "Oh do I get to do all those ninja moves? And walk up to the bad guy and shoot him from behind? Do I get cool sunglasses?"

The agent glared.

Lizzie chuckled nervously. "Sorry."

"To work undercover, it's not just wearing normal clothes and watching from the shadows. It's becoming a whole new person, inheriting a whole new identity, to live in this identity, to convince the perpetrator that you are who they think you are and who you say you are. You get a whole wallet of identification cards and a job to assume. You will follow the lawyer for your parents and study under her apprenticeship."

"A lawyer? What do I know about the law? Am I supposed to know all of that fancy language?" Lizzie asked, feeling a bit sad at the mention of lawyers, especially a certain maternal lawyer she had left in the dust.

"You will have your parents' actual lawyer at your side. Together you will liquidate the house as well as plan a funeral for your parents. There is also an ongoing police investigation due to the call the Chicago PD received from the Police Commissioner of the will be given a warrant so that you can enter the house on your own if there is anything you would like to save, since the inheritance of the house, you, is now dead. "

Lizzie chuckled nervously yet again. "About that... is this a permanent thing? Will I never get to see any of my family members again? Cause I just want to make sure that they are okay... and I never really got a chance to know them."

"This is your life for right now. You don't know if you are going to live until tomorrow. You never actually know if you are going to make it to tomorrow. But this job, this life, minimizes your chances of survival by a lot. I know people that have gone home after being undercover after six months. Some came home after twenty years, and found that things had changed.

Lizzie gulped.

"The goal here is to take the Blue Templar down once and for all. That will protect the Reagans. You want to help them? Stay here, and take down the people who want to take you down."

"One more thing..." Lizzie started.

"What now?" The agent growled, a little irritated that she was stuck with the clueless teenager with no experience what so ever.

"I am an actress... I can play the part... but I might need a costume change..."

The agent rolled her eyes.

"Did you find her?" Erin jumped on Danny and Jamie the minute they walked back into the Bay Ridge house. Erin had drifted off, and stayed asleep for a while. Nicky must have woken up, throwing a blanket on her mother before leaving to go do her homework. Erin had absolutely no idea what time it was...

Or how much time had passed.

"No... not yet..." Jamie looked over at Danny. He had no idea how to tell his older sister, the one who inspired him to become a lawyer, that his daughter was probably already did. Erin already knew. She was raised in a family of cops and knew that look. It was the look she saw the day that Joe got shot.

"What information do we have?" Erin tried, knowing her chances were slim but still holding out hope that her daughter will still come out of this alive.

"We're pretty sure she was abducted and the car, my car, was thrown in the alley to make it look like she was attacked by a mob of some sorts. We're trying to find any video surveillance that would help us find out who or where they took her, but every camera we could have used seems clear." Danny started, not sure how his sister was going to react. She looked a little better, but still had puffed up eyes, paled skin, and she still looked thinner.

"So what do we do now?" Erin tried.

"Hope for something to come up." Jamie said, walking over to give his sister a hug. "I'm so sorry about all of this, Er. We're going to do everything that we can to find her and get her out of this mess. We have the power of the Police Commissioner of New York City in our hands and the cult of Reagans. And once the cult of Reagans gets involved there is no stopping us."

Erin smiled sadly. "I just have a really bad feeling about all of this. My daughter is out there somewhere with god knows who having god knows what done to her."

Danny walked over to Danny. "Don't you dare say anything about the other theory. There is a possibility that Lizzie set this up but is really out there. We cannot tell Er that. It will make her feel even worse."

"I know. She looks awful."

"I am going to try talking with her. You go talk to Jackie about what we should do next." Jamie nodded at his older brother and walked away.

"Hey Er." Danny said, sitting down next to his sister on the couch. She was rubbing her temples again.

"What is it Danny?"

"We are worried about you Er. That is it."

"Why is everyone worried about me? It's Lizzie you should be worried about. She is the one out there that could be killed at any minute."

"We are going to find Lizzie. In the meantime, you need to take care of yourself. You look awful."

Erin sniffled. "I'm terrified. What if we lose her too? We lost Joe and Mom and... I cannot lose my daughter too!" She started sobbing and Danny opened his arms for his sister and let her cry. It was like Joe all over again.

Jackie and Jamie were standing in the living room with Frank and Henry, debating their possible moves when Jackie's phone rang. Shrugging, she put it to her ear.

She gasped and everyone turned to look at her.

"They found a body."

This is just like an improv show. You've done one of those before. Just play the part and you will absolutely fine. You will be absolutely fine...

More like absolutely screwed.

Walking into the attorney's office in downtown Chicago after landing right at O'Hare gave Lizzie a hard time keeping her eyes open. She was so nervous about this whole thing, one false move and she could be blown to bits and then bye bye Reagans. She ran her hand through her newly cut and dyed blonde hair as much as she could without ruining it. And she was exhausted.

"Hello, Mary Russell. I am studying at Columbia University to become a lawyer, and my internship assigned me to you." A blonde (with brunette roots) that wore wide framed glasses and a business suit that had too much jet-lag shook the hands of a brunette wearing a dress shirt and pants.

"Madison Robertson... A New Yorker? Why are you here in the Windy City?" The lawyer questioned with a smile on her face.

"I was always a Bears fan. Never Jets.." Lizzie laughed. "The plane ride was a little too boring for my taste however. I ran out of reading material." The two of them approached a car parked on the side of the road and got in.

"These clients were are going to visit have a tough patch. The couple left everything to their daughter, who disappeared right after the murder and was never found. She never claimed any of this, so we have to assess the value before junking everything."

"Were these people persons of interest? Rich assets?"

"No. The husband was a lawyer. I knew him. He was a good guy, and he loved his wife and kid. And now they're probably all dead because of some psychopath. It's a shame their lives were cut so short. They all had so much more life to live."

"Any info on the missing daughter?"

"None. They assume she fled and is not longer in the state."

"Are the police still investigating the murder?"

"Apparently they were going to give up but they receieved a call from a higher up and opened the case back up. They have a couple suspects but they have not been able to catch them." The two of them walked into the houde to see four police cops investigating. The crime scene, living room, was blocked off and Lizzie felt a little bit sick to her stomach when she saw the blood stains on the floor.

The police had cleared the house of all evidence and left within the hour. Her lawyer partner declared everything for salvage and called the liquidator.

Since that was the end of her shift she decided to stay, claiming she was just going to take the bus. She wanted to look around her house alone for the last time.

She had originally planned on selling it when she graduated high school, that way she could afford to got to college somewhere and live in a crappy apartment. Lizzie threw herself down across the bed and stared at her ceiling.

Anxious from lack of progress in anything, Lizzie started dumping out her mother's closet, deciding what would go to Goodwill. Most of the clothes her mother wore were too teacherish for Lizzie's liking.

After dumping out the majority of the clothes and shoes in the closet, she found a shoebox behind the rest of them that had what appeared to be old video tapes. They were the old kind that used a camera and wire to blow up on the TV.

After finding and hooking up the wiring, Lizzie popped in the tape labeled "Lizzie's Early Years" marked with what appeared to be her mother's handwriting. They were the old small tapes that you used an actual camcorder to record. She shrugged and threw them on the bed, and continued going through the closet. But she couldn't get the thought out of her head...

She walked downstairs to the basement with the tapes. After looking through yet another closet, she found the bag with the camcorder and the wiring. After hooking it up to the tv, she sat down on the couch with a cup of hot tea to relieve her nerves. She still felt awful... About everything.

The first video on the tape appeared to be from Lizzie's second birthday. Lizzie sat on her father's lap at the kitchen table with an apple pie with a number two candle on it.

"Blow out the candles!" Her father smiled. He looked so young. This was way before the stress of his job gave him wrinkles on his face and gray spots in his hair. He looked happy.

"Happy birthday baby girl!" Her mother said from off screen. She was probably the one holding her camera. Lizzie could just imagine it. Her mother's red hair straight to her shoulders, probably wearing a plaid shirt and jeans, and smiling her smile that seemed to light up the world, or at least Lizzie's world.

Lizzie couldn't help but sniffle. Eventually she was all out sobbing. She walked over to her purse, dumping it out on the bed. Out came her wallet full of fake IDs, her glasses, a notepad. She looked over, seeing what she was looking for. The crumpled up picture of her, being held by Erin Reagan. Erin looked so happy, but so sad at the same time. At that point she knew she was giving away the chance to see her child grow up, but she looked so happy, because she thought she was doing the right thing by giving her away.

The other thing she was looking for... The Reagan family photo. Taken at the dedication for her Uncle Joe, her whole family stood next to the plaque, smiling. Her mother smiled her usual empty smile, her sister looked carefree, and her uncles looked... pissed?

She would miss them.

She would always miss them and there was nothing she could ever do about it.

"They found a body in a dumpster by where the car was found and they think it is Lizzie. Its fresh..." Jackie took a deep breath. "And it's damaged to the point of no recognition. It was burned alive." Baker, whom Jamie had just noticed had been standing there next to the Commissioner the whole time, looked genuinely concerned. How much did she know about this?

"Should we go see?" Jamie asked, while he saw Danny come into the room and try to jump into the conversation.

"The body was already taken to the morgue but it needs to..." Jackie took another deep breath. "Be identified." Danny's eyes widened and he looked at Jackie, hoping to get something out of his partner other than the tears starting to form in her eyes. Never had he seen Jackie cry.

Frank was about to tell Danny what to do when they noticed that Erin was standing there.

And she had heard everything.

"What do you mean they found a body? Are they sure it's Lizzie?" Erin leaned against the wall, feeling the air get knocked out of her... she felt dizzy. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she dropped to the ground.

"Erin!" Frank screamed, walking over to her on the ground. Danny and Jamie both jumped and ran over to their sister, now collapsed.

And then there were two Reagans down.