Hey guys!

Wow, I haven't updated in a long time, actually. But I got the five reviews I needed to update. So please continue reviewing! My review number has gone down a lot! I know, I'm ungrateful. But what fanfiction author doesn't love getting showered in reviews? Jk, guys. But please do continue reviewing!

I will lower the bar a little, for NOW.

3 reviews and I will update.

No real news. Just wondering-what type of story should I write next? Should I continue in Disney? Should there be a sequel? I have no clue. I have a busy summer this year. So, yeah. REVIEW, peeps! Please?

Reply to Comments:

Flying By Wire: As always, great review. Here's the continuation of Ariel's car crash.

TheLonelyMonstersCompanion: Oh. Thank you so much. Yes, this is the next part! Yay! But there's another...cliffhanger. I'm sorry. I'll update fast this time, I promise.

Avril Lambert: Sums up a lot nicely. Thank you for that lovely review! Especially about the character development. It's what I aimed for.

Three Caballeros Girl: Lol, right? Please continue to R&R.

Tom's Girlfriend: Awwww, thank you! So much. Really, I mean it. I will forever treasure this review! :)

Enjoy the chapter, guys!

The Execution happened, and I got out of jail. People, being people, had pretended the ghost and the god of the Underworld were just hallucinations. But I believed different.

-Meg

"Esme, wake up!" Phoebus was bent over her, looking worried. He whipped around to Dr. Sweet, the man who had tended to Kida before she had died. Dr. Sweet nodded, scratching his head. "Tell me who you are in relation to Miss Esmeralda."
Phoebus looked frustrated as hell. "I'm her boyfriend. Phoebus. I just want to know—how bad is her injury?"
"Not very," Dr. Sweet assured him. "There was bleeding, but that was from a cut on the forehead. Your friend Emmett exaggerated."
"Emmett?" Phoebus narrowed his eyes, then gasped. "Oh, Emmett." Flynn had called him saying he was pretending to be Esmeralda's brother to get her into the Emergency Room and see what was happening.

Dr. Sweet nodded. "She has a few broken ribs, and her knee bone is thoroughly shattered. She'll need crutches after she gets out of the hospital. For a while, until the bone sets."
Phoebus nodded. The damage seemed repairable.

Dr. Sweet considered, thinking. "She hit her head pretty hard. But she'll probably be waking up soon. The drop wasn't high considering she kept grabbing onto things as she fell to slow and stunt her fall. She's very lucky, Phoebus." He looked concerned. "But it would be nice if we had parents here to pay for her medical bills and whatnot."

Meg was leaned against the door with Holli and Quasi, trying to catch Dr. Sweet and Phoebus's conversation. She walked into the room, despite the look Dr. Sweet gave her.

"Excuse me," he said sternly. "No one but family is allowed in here."
"We," said Meg, gesturing to Holli and Quasi and Phoebus, by the door, "are the only real family Esmeralda has in this world."
Dr. Sweet stared at Phoebus. "No dad or mom? No other family?"

Phoebus glanced at Meg. "Did she ever mention—?"

"No," Meg said firmly. "Never."

"To hell with that." Holli stepped forward.

Dr. Sweet threw his arms up in the air. "Why don't we just invite the nation in here? What do you youngsters think this is—a free-for-all?"
They ignored him and glared at Holli. "What?" Meg demanded. "Did Esme tell you otherwise?"
Holli smiled smugly. "Unlike you, you naive little prude, I know where babies come from."
Meg made a face at Holli. "Was I born yesterday? I know how babies are made."
Holli nodded. "Exactly. So in order for Esme to be here, she must've had parents of some kind."

Quasi stepped forward shyly. "Um, Meg, can I say something?"
Meg frowned. "What is it, Quasi?"
"I know something about Esme's parents."
Phoebus scowled. "Why would she tell you, Quasi, and not me?"
Quasi glanced away. "See, I knew how you guys would take it. I'll just shut up."
"Stop it, Phoebus!" Meg grabbed Quasi's arm. "This is putting Esme's life on the line, so I suggest you start talking, Quasi."
Quasi sighed. "Her mom's name was Mirela. She was born and raised in a circus as a dancer. Same with her uncle, Clopin."
"Funny guy, right?" Phoebus asked. "That clown that Esme used to live with when she was younger."

The others gave him funny looks.

"You knew her uncle?" demanded Holli.

Phoebus shrugged. "Esme and I were neighbors."

"Anyway," Quasi continued. "According to the pastor at St. Peters—er, Reverend Frollo, I think—Mirela had been raped and killed by someone."
Holli covered her mouth with hand and gasped. "Ohmygod!"
Meg was taken aback. "Seriously?"
Quasi nodded earnestly. "Pastors don't lie. And—her father, well. He was the ringmaster in the circus apparently. His name was Facilier. He knew all this voodoo and magic and he had the affair with Mirela when she and Clopin showed up homeless to join their circus. He loved Clopin's funny nature and Mirela's natural dancing talent. They had an affair later and apparently...made Esmeralda. But I think—when she was around ten years old, they recieved the tragic news at the circus that Mirela had died while...out."
"That sucks." Meg knew her comment was snarky, but she now had an explanation for Esmeralda being such a flirt and a slut.

"Yeah." Quasi was staring at his feet. "She told me all this one day. She was crying. And I listened to her entire backstory."
"Is this...Facilier alive?" Dr. Sweet wanted to know. "What was the name of the circus?"
"Facilier's Fabulous Circus," Quasi replied.

"Fancy." Phoebus spat. "Got a nice ring to it."
"This Facilier sounds pretty shady," Holli said. "What if he killed Mirela?"
"Why would he kill his own wife?" Meg demanded.
"People have their reasons," Holli answered darkly.

"The circus is probably long gone," Quasi cut in. "They move around by train around the country. They could be across America by now. And I don't know if the circus split apart or anything. But what Esmeralda said a year ago is that Clopin is still alive. After Mirela died, he split from the circus and lives with his family in Notre Dame."
"Is that a city?" Meg wanted to know. She had never left New York City.

"A square nearby here," Phoebus realized. "Notre Dame. The square near Bronson, where St. Peters is. There's a lot of detached circus freaks living homeless there. They tell stories and dance and do anything for money and food. That's probably where Clopin's at. It makes sense now."
"D'ya think he'll pay for Esmeralda's hospital bills?" Holli asked. "Is he cruel?"
"He's nice," Phoebus replied. "He always loved Esme."
"Okay," Meg echoed. "Let's do it."
Her voice sounded hollow, but she was prepared. She wanted to save Esmeralda so much. But she kept thinking that there was something off about what Quasi said. Something was pricking her about one of the characters in the back of her mind, and she wasn't sure why.

She had this weird feeling that Reverend Frollo had done something.

Something bad.

I can't do it. God gave me the biggest choice I must make: my dignity or my sister. And frankly, I don't know what to choose. I CAN'T do it.

-Arista

It was late and Arista was in bed with Robbie in their new apartment.

With the combined money, Arista thought they had a pretty sweet deal for New York City.

They had bought mahogany furniture, off-white carpeting, and set up their beds and their tables and worked with a designer to make the apartment the best it could be.

Arista even put up medals and her mother's ancient mermaid figurines.

Something wouldn't let Arista sleep. Her stomach was clearly noticeable now, and she lay in an oversized sweatshirt, sweating bucketloads because of the stuffiness of the room, the fan whirling on the ceiling, Robbie sleeping next to her with his glasses folded neatly on the bedside table next to the alarm clock.

Suddenly, the phone rang.

Arista snatched it almost right out of the air and breathed a quick, "Hello?"
Robbie opened his eyes slowly. "Arista? Is everything okay?"
She was silent, her ice blue eyes going wider and wider and wider, until she dropped the phone straight onto the bed, murmuring a soft, hushed, "Okay."
"Arista?" Robbie was sitting up now. "Is everything okay?"
Arista was staring blankly at the wall. "I can't—"

Robbie furrowed his brow. "What? Wait, I can't see you—hold on—" Robbie fumbled for his glasses and slipped them on, staring at Arista. He looked at her terrified expression and her shaking hands and he reached for her. "Is it the baby? What's wrong?"
"My—" Arista stopped talking and shivered. "Robbie."

"WHAT?" Robbie yelled it out and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her. "What happened? Did someone die?"
"My sister—my sister called. They think she's dead. Robbie, ohmygod without her my life is a total crappy mess I can't live life without her she's—she's—ARIEL!"

Robbie blinked. "Ariel? You mean the girl we met at the cafe? Your sister—the one that didn't want us to get an abortion?"
"I'd get an abortion if she just lived!" Arista wailed.

"What is happening?" Robbie demanded, thoroughly lost. "What's happened to her?"
"She got into a car crash on her way home from the Y with her friend, Jasmine!"

Robbie gasped. "Is she alright?"
Arista shook her head and rocked, sobbing. "No."

"She's...dead?" Robbie whispered, shaking his head in horror.

"She's alive, but barely." Arista slid out of bed. "I—I have to go to the hospital." She ran to the door, throwing on a pair of shorts. Robbie slid out of bed as well. "I'll grab the keys—we'll drive."
But at the door, Arista paused, her hands squeezed around the metal doorknob.

I can't. I'm pregnant. It's obvious, I can't conceal it. They'll know, they'll know, and then what'll happen?
Arista stopped and took a step back, stumbling over the stairs, tears running down her face.

But what if Ariel dies? This may be my last chance to say goodbye.

Arista hobbled up the stairs but collapsed halfway, unable to get a breath and get her bearings. Se didn't even know what to do. She grabbed her iPhone from her bag breathlessly and dialed Jasmine Nazari's number.

"Jasmine!" she wailed. "Pick up, please!"

The phone kept ringing. Finally, the Voice told her to leave a damned message.

Arista threw the phone back into her purse and scooted down the stairs, going crazy. She called up Alana again. "How's Ariel?"
"Oh, she's just peachy!" Alana spat through the phone. "Where the hell are you? She's dripping blood like crazy and the doctors are running around screaming stuff nobody understands. She's asking for you, Arista, she's asking for you! Get your ass down here...she NEEDS YOU!"

Alana was crying on the other end.

The Triton Girls were supposed to be made of stone, bone, and diamonds. The strongest substances on earth. The Triton Girls did not cry.

Arista raked her hands roughly through her messy hair. "I can't come!" she wailed. "I can't!"

"To. Hell. With. That!" Alana was screaming now. "Daddy is here and we need you! Ariel needs you, Arista! She wants you, she is begging us for you. Please, Arista, just come!"
Arista was sobbing so hard she almost fell over. She clung to the couch. She was afraid that if she died anytime soon, she would go straight to hell. To save her honor, she was ditching her little sister in her time of need.

"Ohhhhhhh..." she moaned. She couldn't breathe, and on top of that, she was breathless from screaming into the phone while running around the den best as she could with a swollen stomach.

She was panting now, and Robbie arrived downstairs in a checkered shirt and comfortable pants. His hair was mussed back best he could, and he was jangling the keys. "Arista! We have to go to the hospital!"
She clung to the couch with all her might. "I can't go, Robbie! I can't make myself go!"
Robbie narrowed his eyes. "Why not?"
The truth is a fountain in your heart, but unless you turn it on, it won't flow.

Arista bit back bile from her throat, and the feeling of hopelessness was rising in her. Robbie grabbed the remote. "It's probably on the news!" he realized. "Maybe we can see what's happening here." He put on a flat voice. "We can assess Ariel's potential damage from the wreckage of the car."
Arista sprawled on the floor, her snot and saliva and tears wetting the sandgrain carpeting.

Robbie turned on the channel 5 news, and suddenly, the reporter Rhianna Walters came on with the news:

"An teenage girl, Ariel Triton, was supposedly driving a friend—Jasmine Nazari—home after a late-night YMCA workout. Along the way, a truck driver under the influence of drugs was unable to gain control of his vehicle and crashed into Miss Triton's car on Rosewater Drive. Lets take a look at some of the damage."

Arista recoiled in horror as they showed the bent out of shape car, twisted and flipped, smoking, a pile of random metal glistening on the dewy wet grass.

"A few words from a distraught friend," Rhianna Walters added, and the camera turned to a gorgeous shot of Jasmine Nazari, sobbing.

She seemed alright, besides a broken ankle and a broken wrist. She was absolutely hysterical.

"I was in the car, with Ariel, we were blasting music." She paused to bury her face into her hands and mop at her cheeks. "The truck came, and I screamed, and Ariel screamed."
Suddenly, Jasmine turned hysterical. "There was glass. It broke, it sounded like it did in the movies, like, breaking. And it was everywhere and it hurt and I fell forward, and something crushed my ankle. And it hurt so bad but I didn't care 'cuz Ariel was screaming and her face was cut up and she was spitting blood. There was so much blood," moaned Jasmine. "You actually don't know how much blood is in your body until you're cut open. And your veins are blue but they should be red. Right?!"
Meanwhile, Arista's phone was ringing repeatedly.

She couldn't stand it anymore. She hit ACCEPT and spat into it: "WHAT?"
"Come!" hollered Alana. "We need you! Ariel's in a bad state, Arista!"

Arista stared at Robbie, who grabbed her wrists. "She's your sister. Just because your family doesn't know you're pregnant and with a guy doesn't mean you can just abandon her. She kept your secret. Will you be willing to help her?"
Arista clicked decline and laid there, sobbing, staring at the hysterical Jasmine Nazari onscreen.

"Why, God?" Arista wailed. "What are you doing this to me for? Is this what you want me to do? Forget any honor and dignity I ever had and go to the hospital and show my family I'm pregnant before marriage? Claim that I'm living with my boyfriend in an apartment without even finishing high school—all to just see my sister after her crash? Is this your freaking plan?"
No reply.

Arista stood up slowly.

She made the choice that would define her future.

"I'm going to the hospital."

Oooooh.

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Byeeeeee!