Sam and the phantom landed right back onto Dan's bedroom floor with him cushioning her fall. As the wind blew them into the next entry, he had managed to maneuver himself so that he landed on his back with Sam landing on top of him still wrapped in his arms.

"Thanks," she sighed.

Despite the pained expression on his face, the phantom managed to smile, "Don't mention it."

Seeing his face, Sam quickly got off of him and helped him sit up, "Oh my god, are you okay?"

"Fine," he groaned and rubbed his back, "Just fine. I might need a minute, though."

Sam kneeled down behind him and gently massaged his aching back. The phantom took his hands away and let out a sigh.

"Better?" she asked.

"Much better," he sighed again, "I could get used to this."

"Well, try not to get too used to this. I'm only here until the end of the journal."

"And then what?"

She stopped, "What do you mean?"

The phantom stood up and faced her, "I mean and then what will you do? You reach the end, you go back home, and then what happens?"

Sam shrugged, "I don't know. I never really thought of that. Knowing my mother though, she'll make me go on with this stupid wedding."

"Maybe not. Maybe there's another way."

"You mean like running away? But where? Where would I go? Who'd want to help?"

"Dan does. You're in his journal, after all. You wouldn't be here if he didn't want you here."

"But he's dead," Sam stood up, "How could he possibly help?"

"Let me ask you something," the phantom stepped closer to her, "Back at the cememtary, did you really mean what you said?"

"Did I mean what?"

"That you choose Dan to be your husband?" he reached up and stroked her hair, fingering the violet, "That you would stay with him?"

Sam reached up to the violet and allowed her hand to be clasped into his. She looked hard at his face and studied every detail.

"Why," she stammered, "Why do you look so familiar?"

"Answer me."

"Yes," she nodded, "Yes. I meant it."

The phantom smiled and stroked her thumb with his, "Then trust him. He will make it happen. You'll see."

Sam stifled a disappointed sigh as he let go and walked out to the hallway. She followed him.

"Hey," she called out, "Hey, you never answered my question."

"I didn't?" he smirked and led her down the staircase, "June 1, 1888. Just two weeks before, Minister Lancer informed Vlad and Penelope that he had accidently double-booked the church for the day they wanted to get married and since he had promised the first couple that date before Vlad and Penelope came to him, he informed Vlad they would need to reschedule to a later date. Penelope, however, was insistent that they stick to the original date."

"I can't believe I'm actually defending her," Sam said, "But I'd want the original date, too. Espcially if I've paid a lot of money for it."

"The first couple was actually a friend of the minister's, so they got the better treatment."

"Still."

They had reached the parlor where Dan and Vlad both sat. Dan was quietly reading a book while Vlad read what looked like a telegram. Scowling, he slammed the telegram on the table causing Dan to look up at him.

"Bad news?" he asked.

"Minister Lancer's still not budging," Vlad grumbled, "Penny's not going to be happy to hear this."

Dan rolled his eyes, but said nothing. He'd already made his feelings about his future stepmother quite known to his father. Hell, even his sister and cousin had both joined in. But still, his father refused to budge. As far as he was concerned, "Penny" was the most wonderful woman in the world. Everything she said and everything she did was nothing but law in Vlad's mind and nothing would convince him otherwise. So Dan stopped trying. His sister was much more optimistic about her efforts, but even she was starting to get tired of it. It was only a matter of time before she stopped trying to persuade her father against the marriage.

"You know," Vlad continued, "We paid good money for that date, too! I don't understand what the minister's thinking! If he thinks he can get away with that, he's got another thing coming, I'll see to that!"

"Just pick another date," Dan said, rolling his eyes again, "He said he's free next month!"

"But Penny wants this month!" he got up to his feet and started walking for the door, "I'm going down there and giving him a piece of my mind!"

"Father, are you feeling well? You don't usually get this angry."

"Of course I'm angry! Penny asks for one simple thing and the minister won't let her have it!"

"God," Sam said, "It's just a date. I'd be upset, too, but not this upset."

"Penelope always had a way with men," the phantom replied, "Which you'll see soon enough."

As if on cue, Mrs. Masters had entered the room just as Vlad was about to leave.

"Now, now, darling," she gently pushed him back in a soothing voice, "There's no need for that. Gentleness is a much better approach. Besides, I've already invited Minister Lancer over for tea this afternoon. He should be arriving shortly."

"Good," Vlad folded his arms, "Then I can let him have a piece of my mind!"

"Why don't you let me handle it first, darling," she patted his hand, "Who knows? Perhaps I might be able to change his mind."

Vlad was too preoccupied in his anger to notice a small wicked grin spread on Mrs. Masters face. Sam, however noticed it. Apparently, Dan did too, for as soon as Mrs. Masters looked at him and saw his glare, the grin disappeared.

"Excuse me," Bertrand appeared at the doorway, "Minister Lancer is here."

"Oh, good," Mrs. Masters smiled, "Send him in. Darling, let me have a word with him first."

Dan got up from his chair and walked out of the parlor with his book still in his hand.

"Where are you going?" Vlad asked.

"Looking for a quieter place to read," he muttered.

Sam and the phantom followed him. As they left the parlor, Sam could see the minister greet the couple with Bertrand right beside him.

"Minister Lancer," She could faintly hear Mrs. Masters as they continued to the back of the house, "Why don't we talk in the study. There's a marvelous family heirloom I want you to see. A rather beautiful scepter."

Dan went past the front door when suddenly it opened and somebody grabbed him by the back of the collar and dragged him outside.

"Hey!"

He was let go. Coughing and rubbing his throat, Dan turned to his attacker and widened his eyes in surprise.

"Tucker?" Sam asked, following him outside.

"Tucker, what the hell?" Dan asked, finally able to breathe.

"Did you tell him?" Tucker demanded.

"Tell who?"

"Your father!" Tucker shouted in frustration, "You tell him about what happened to that ghostwriter."

"Yes, not that he listened."

"Well, maybe he'll listen to this!"

Tucker reached into his coat pockets, pulled out various scraps of paper, and shoved them into Dan's arms. Sam wasn't able to see what they were, but they looked like they were clipped from a newspaper.

"What is all this?" Dan asked as he scanned through the articles.

"Proof!" Tucker exclaimed, "My boss sent me over to that ghostwriter's town to get interviews. On the way, I managed to get a few more interviews and newspaper articles concerning the deaths of Penelope's previous husbands."

"What!"

"See," he reached over and pointed at the different articles in Dan's hand, "Here's the ghostwriter. This one's some well-known scientist who studied electricity. He used to brag about being a master of technology, whatever that means. The people I interviewed about him didn't seem to like him very much."

"Tucker. Focus."

"Right, sorry. This one's about a hunter. Rumor had it that he's killed almost every kind of animal on every continent except Antarctica."

"Well," Sam said, sarcastically, "Nice to know that he drew the line at Antarctica."

"He didn't," the phantom answered, "He was planning a hunting trip there right before he died."

"There's lots more," Tucker continued, "But the point is each and every one of those guys were all married to Penelope! And now they're dead! No one was sick, no one was hurt, all had horrified expressions on their faces when they were found! Now is that enough proof?!"

"It is for me," Sam muttered as she felt the color drain from her face.

"You've convinced me," Dan frowned as he flipped through the articles, "But we're never going to convince Father. He's obsessed with her. He'll never listen to us."

"Then we're going to have to find out how she's doing it! We're going to have to find it and put a stop to it before she gets to your father!"

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," everyone turned to see Minister Lancer with a dazed smile on his face, "Don't mind me, I'm just leaving. See you on the twenty-fifth, Mr. Masters."

"The twenty-fifth?" Dan asked, confused, "I thought you said that wasn't available anymore?"

"I think the twenty-fifth is a wonderful wedding date for your father, don't you?" he continued as he started his way to the carriage.

"What's wrong with him?" Sam asked.

The phantom wasn't able to answer. The wind had started up again. He offered his hand to her.

"But," she took his hand and let him pull her closer to him, "What about your back? You're going to hurt yourself again."

"Don't worry," he wrapped her in his arms again, "Our landing will be much softer this time."

Sam wanted to ask what he meant by that, but she knew he wouldn't be able to hear him in the wind's growing roar. Instead, she just smiled as the phantom's body protected her. She had thought phantoms were cold and clammy with a touch that would shiver humans to the bone. Pressed against this particular phantom's body, however, Sam could feel the warmth of his body and touch as if he were an ordinary man.

The phantom began to stroke her hair. She looked up at him and found him smiling down at her. Again, he looked so familiar. The shape of his face, his smile, that gleam in his eyes.

"Who are you?"