Hey, there, chipmunk fans! I'm really sorry that I haven't been updating regularly thus far, but I've got exams coming up, and my life has been super hectic right now. I WILL NOT QUIT, THOUGH. I will keep writing. I am not a quitter.

Although I do now have a bit more sympathy toward those who DO quit.

Please just hang in there with me! I'll get through this. Soon it will be summer, and I'll have a lot more time to write my stories.

Enjoy this next chapter!

Simon paced back and forth, back and forth. He knew what he had to do, but he didn't want to do it.

She's going to be so mad at me…but I have to. I don't have a choice.

He went downstairs to Jeanette, where she was preparing.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a second?" he asked as everyone on deck got ready to go back to the fortress.

"Sure," she nodded. They stepped into one of the more spacious, upper-deck cabins.

Simon took a deep breath. "Jeanette, I don't think you should go to the fight," he said, deploying Plan A.

She stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"Jeanette, it's going to be really dangerous," he tried to explain. "I just don't want you to get hurt. You don't have your powers yet, and—,"

"I'm very touched that you want to look out for me, Si," Jeanette told him gently. "But I have to go. I need to go with you."

Simon opened his mouth to argue the point further, but he stopped, seeing the firm fire in her eyes and knowing that nothing he said would change her mind now.

Okay then. Time for Plan B.

He opened his mouth, and then frowned and looked over his shoulder. "Um…could you excuse me for just a second?"

Jeanette nodded curiously, and he left the room.

She turned and walked toward one of the chairs, but a muted thud from behind stopped her. She turned and saw that the wind had blown the door shut.

Relaxing slightly, she walked over to open it, but then heard the scrape and click of a key turning in a lock.

She frowned. "Um…Simon?" she called, knocking gently on the door. "I think something locked the door by accident. Could you open it for me?"

There was a long, long silence outside. Finally, a low voice answered, "No."

Jeanette frowned, thinking she hadn't heard him right. "Simon?" Her voice was a bit sharper. "Open the door."

"I can't, Jeanette. I'm sorry."

"Simon, that's not funny," she snapped. "Let me out."

"I'm sorry," she heard him whisper again. "I can't."

Then it dawned on her. "YOU locked the door!" She tried the doorknob, and of course, it didn't work. She hammered on the door. "Simon Seville, let me out NOW!"

"I love you," she heard him whisper, and then his footsteps were receding down the corridor.

She pounded on the door, yelling for him to come back and let her out, but he didn't. After a while, there was no sound.

"They left!" she fumed. "They left without me. That's just dandy. Fine time for him to get overprotective!" She paced back and forth in the small room. "I never should have told him what I did…Adam didn't hurt me that badly…now everyone else is going off to the fight without me! I cannot believe him. I TOLD him that I needed to go with him!"

She flopped down on the chair with an aggravated huff, and it was then that she noticed the note on the table. Frowning, she picked it up and noted that it was Simon's handwriting.

My Dearest Jeanette,

If you are reading this note, it means that Plan A did not work and I had to resort to Plan B. Based on the fact that Plan A was talking you out of going to the fight and into staying behind on the ship, I know for a fact that you are reading this note.

Jeanette couldn't help but half-smile at that.

Everyone thinks that you're the shy, sweet one of the bunch, and that may be true. But I know that when you want something, you can be just as stubborn as Brittany.

Look, you're very, very smart, and I'm sure you've already figured out what's going on here, but I'm going to come out and say it anyway. Yes, I did lock you in there on the ship to keep you from going to the fight. I know you're really mad at me right now, and probably really frustrated, but please keep in mind that I'm doing this because I don't want you to get hurt.

I have put you through so much in the past few months

"Oh, Simon, none of this was your fault," Jeanette whispered, her eyes filling up with tears. She blinked them away, reread the line, and continued on.

I have put you through so much in the past few months, and if you think that I'm going to risk you again when I don't have to you, then you've got another thing coming.

Jeanette half-smiled again.

Just please remember that I'm doing this because I care about you. I love you, Jeanette. You are the most precious thing in my life right now. And I can't let you go to that fight. I can't lose you.

Not again.

Always Yours,

Simon

Jeanette sighed glumly and stared at the piece of paper. She felt herself melting, despite her annoyance at Simon. She did love him a lot, and she smiled and was touched to know how much he truly cared about her.

But she had to get to the fight! She couldn't just let him go alone. He could get hurt, or killed, and what if she wasn't there to help him? What if she could have been there to help him?

Then she gasped. "The windows!" There were two French doors that opened out to the night. She loved the view, but now she could use them to get off the ship. She dashed over to the windows and tried the lock.

Then she saw the thick combination lock that was clasped securely over the door handles.

She frowned and pulled the piece of paper that was wedged in the lock out. It was in Simon's handwriting again.

You can't honestly think I haven't thought of that.

She growled to herself as she crumpled the paper and threw it to the ground.

Then she heard soft footsteps outside her cabin. She raced over to the door, recognizing those footfalls.

"Monique?" she called.

There was a long pause.

"Yes, miss?" came the soft reply at last.

Jeanette relaxed slightly. "So you're out here, too, then, huh?"

"Yes, miss."

"Monique, we've been over this. You don't have to call me Miss all the time."

"It makes me more comfortable, miss."

"Monique, really."

"Please, miss, just let me say it." She heard annoyance tinged with amusement in Monique's voice.

"All right, all right," Jeanette grumbled. "Did Simon force you to stay here, too?"

"No, Miss Jeanette. He asked me to, though, in case you needed someone to talk to. And, to be honest, I didn't really want to go back into that horrid fortress, anyway."

"You must have been a servant there for a long time, huh?" Jeanette felt suddenly sympathetic toward the young chipmunk.

"Yes, miss. But not for too long. Just ever since you came back and Adam left."

"I see."

"I worked for Callie and Adam when they were still superstars, Miss Jeanette. Not as a servant, but as a…helper of sorts. My job was complicated. More of a stagehand."

"I don't remember you," Jeanette said slowly.

"Do you remember everything that Callie did, miss?"

"Oh, heavens, no. I actually don't remember most of it. Just some parts. Bits and flashes of the very important things. I remember her audition…her first concert." She swallowed. "I remember that first night in the maple tree when she and Adam sang together…"

"Do you remember when they met, miss?"

"No, Monique, I don't remember that part." Jeanette sounded sad. "I have a lot of memories of Adam, though…he was so kind. So sweet. What happened to him? He's just…just evil now."

"Yes." Monique's voice was sad. "He used to be so kind."

"Monique?" Jeanette was very quiet. "What was Callie like?"

Monique was silent for a long time, too. Finally she answered, "Callie was nice enough. She was kind of caught up in her future, though, and didn't notice others a lot. She wasn't vain or proud, but she focused a lot on her career and not on other people…except for Adam."

"How did she treat you?"

"She was nice to me…but she didn't notice me that often."

"Oh…"

"We never got close enough to be friends, and I don't miss her that much. I like you much better, Miss Jeanette. You are kind to everyone you meet, even Adam, when he doesn't deserve it."

"What happened to him, though?" Jeanette asked sadly.

Monique sighed from the other side of the door. "He was just a humble chipmunk at first," she said with equal sadness in her voice. "He worked his way up through the world from a small town and became a stagehand for Callie. He was quiet and polite, but he was lonely. Then he was giving Callie some water one night—the first night of her concert, actually. He was enchanted with her." Jeanette heard the smile and the wistfulness in Monique's voice.

"He was enchanted with her," Monique repeated, sighing slightly. "But he didn't think that he'd ever see her again. For the first time, all his loneliness was brought to the surface. He wanted to be friends with her. He wanted her to love him, because he was in love with her.

"Then, one night, he was out walking and thinking about how lonely he was when he heard her singing. And when he heard that, it led him to start singing, something he hadn't done since he was little. But he was good—really good.

"Callie's adoptive mom Zoe—I think you know her—she was sad that Callie was so lonely, so she made Adam Callie's business partner. At least, that's what they called it officially. They became superstars together. They were both in love with one another, and you've never seen a better pair when they were onstage. They were best friends and would talk together in that maple tree every night.

"But he didn't know that Callie was holding a prisoner in her mind. He didn't know that you were still in there, too. All he knew was that he had reservations, boundaries, every day of his life. He was humble and polite, but cool and distant. He didn't interact with many people unless it was necessary. But when Callie came…she changed all of that. She broke those barriers, and he loved her more than anything. He was still polite, but he was less reserved, less taut and tense. He was happy.

"Then when Mr. Simon changed you back, Adam's brain instantly recognized that he was never going to get Callie back. My theory is that his brain instantly tried to withdraw behind its boundaries again, just like it had been before Callie was around. But Callie had been through, and his boundaries were shattered, broken. He couldn't conceal himself again, but there was nothing there to keep him in front of his boundaries. So I think that his mind got stuck in between somewhere. I'm not sure he's quite right in the head anymore."

Jeanette was feeling immensely guilty at this point.

"It's all right, Miss Jeanette." It was as though Monique had heard Jeanette's thoughts. "Adam has to accept that Callie isn't here. You were a prisoner in Callie's mind."

"But what if it's the other way around?" Jeanette asked miserably. "What if Callie's in there somewhere? What if she's a prisoner in MY mind?"

"She's not, Miss Jeanette."

"How do you know?" Jeanette cried angrily, kicking the door.

"The tests Adam ran proved that Callie was no longer there," Monique said quietly.

"Then where is she?" Jeanette was desperate.

"Callie is you, Miss Jeanette. She's a part of you."

Jeanette saw the logic in this, but it didn't make her feel any better.

She frowned and knocked over the fruit bowl on the table. "Stupid fruit bowl," she muttered. Then an apple rolled across the table. "Stupid apple," she snapped. "Why can't you be a nicer fruit, like an orange? At least I don't need to use my toothpicks after I'm done eating an orange."

What am I saying? Jeanette thought desperately. I'm yelling at an apple for not being an orange. Wow. I must be going insane.

Wait a minute…

I don't need to use my toothpicks…

My toothpicks!

She yanked one out of her pocket and dashed over to the door. She carefully began to pick the lock. Then she expectantly tugged at the handle.

Nothing happened.

What?!

"I'm afraid that's not going to help, Miss Jeanette." Monique's calm voice came from the other side of the door. "He's taken off the knob on this end of the door and put a handle there instead, and there's a combination lock on the handle."

Jeanette groaned. "Don't suppose you know the combination, do you?"

"Why would I know?" Monique snorted.

Jeanette sighed.

"Now I have two combination locks to figure out," she muttered.

"Simon prototypes his locks, didn't you know?" Monique chuckled.

"Yeah, they're all the same combination," she remembered, sighing slightly.

Then she froze.

"But how would you know that?" she asked slowly.

Monique suddenly felt nervous. "Er…I…"

"You DO know the combination! Monique, let me out!" Jeanette banged on the door.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Miss Jeanette." Monique's voice was still calm.

"Why not?" Jeanette snapped.

"Because Mr. Simon made it very clear what would happen to me if I did." Her voice was grim now.

"He couldn't hurt a flea," she growled, slumping down in one of the chairs.

"That and you need the key for this kind of lock as well, and Mr. Simon still has the key with him," she added. "I couldn't get you out of there if I wanted to."

Jeanette sighed, but felt slightly mollified. At least she knew that Monique would probably help her if she could.