How'd your birthday go? - awesome! thanks for asking! my birthday was on Friday, the third, so on Thursday I drove up state with one of my friends and we went snowboarding for the day. on Friday I hung out and watched Gossip Girl on Netflix and went out to dinner with my family. then on Saturday and sunday I was in New York...we went to see a show and I got macarons and it was so much fun! probably the best birthday I've had yet!

Have you been having snow days? - we actually have only had one snow day and that was back in early December. I just had break from December 20-January 6. My district's superintendent really doesn't like to make snow days which I'm perfectly okay with because our graduation date isn't locked in yet so...yeah. there's that. plus I'm a nerd and hate missing school.

Milk chocolate or dark chocolate - definitely dark chocolate!

if I didn't answer your question, I will next chapter! Keep sending more!

"It's a funny thing coming home. Nothing changes. Everything looks the same, feels the same, even smells the same. You realize what's changed is you." - F. Scott Fitzgerald

She rolled her eyes. "Good like your brothers were when you first asked them to let me join the meeting?"

He shook his head. "Just keep driving."

She sighed and glanced over at him. He was angry, which she could understand. She had stolen his thunder at that meeting. She had just gone in, completely unwelcome but somehow she managed to overturn all of his authority. He was helping her but she could tell it was only begrudgingly. It didn't help that they were back in Carolina where she definitely did not want to be. There were too many people around that could recognize her. Blonde hair could not hide a face that you had grown up with.

She made the left into a tree-lined, dirt road and drove thirty feet before coming to a gate. A man holding a gun stepped out of a small toll house on the side of the road and approached the card. America was frightened at first when he tapped on her window. She rolled it down as Sawyer held out his arm. On the underside of his wrist, a branding of the Freemason symbol was lying on his skin.

The guard waved them on and pushed the gate open so she could drive through. They pulled in front of an immaculate building, done in old American architecture. It was white with giant columns in the front. It looked ready to crumble but still as recognizable as the polished pictures from her history textbooks. Then she turned to Sawyer in her seat. "Is this the White House?"

He shrugged. "We got it when the country was turned over." He got out of the car and she followed suit. She followed him up the front steps as he added, "We have no funding though, from the government, so we haven't done the best job with the upkeep. We prefer not to call it the White House because it makes us feel guilty for not taking care of it. Then again," he held the front door open for her and waved her inside, "maybe leaving it to rot helps keep unwelcome visitors away."

She felt that she should wipe her muddy boots on the carpet beneath her foot but even that looked like it should be preserved. Everything about the interior was still preserved and beautiful. "But I see the inside was of the upmost importance."

He shrugged as a butler approached them. "We need to go to the west wing," is all Sawyer said to the butler before he started leading them down a maze of hallways.

Like her first day in the palace, she felt like she could get hopelessly lost in this labyrinth of corridors and passageways. "Sawyer, I should probably tell you now that this is my province. I grew up here. There's a very real chance of someone recognizing me."

He turned around and the butler paused to wait for them. "You're not leaving this house." He started walking again but America pulled him back.

"What?" she demanded.

He rolled his eyes and looked at the butler. "Leave us," he instructed him. Then he looked back at America. "I'm sorry if that came out harsh. The next time you're leaving here, you are catching a plane back to Honduragua."

She frowned. "Why?"

"Because that's where we're sending your son when we find him," Sawyer answered.

Christian. How quickly she'd forgotten. She was so caught up with Maxon and her rebellion that she had completely forgotten about Christian. After all, that's where Maxon supposedly was. She felt so terrible that she almost threw up right there. "He wasn't part of our deal though," she told Sawyer.

He shrugged again. "He's part of you though. We figure you'll be a bit more agreeable if you have your son back." He started walking again and she followed close behind.

"Hey, Sawyer?"

He spoke without turning. "Yes?"

"Thanks," she said earnestly. She didn't have to see his face to know that he was smiling that cocky grin.

"It's whatever," he said nonchalantly.

They walked for another few minutes. "You didn't need that butler to lead you, did you?" she asked him finally.

He laughed. "Do you need someone to show you around your palace?"

"No. But then why was he there?"

"Protection," he answered simply. He stopped at a door and punched a key code into the pad on the wall next to it. "These are dangerous times we leave in. You may look like a harmless queen in disguise but for all we know you are a trained assassin from New Asia."

She nodded and agreed. "You never…" she stopped because her breath was taken away when he flicked the lights on in the enormous room. For as far as she could see, barrels of gunpowder lined the walls in shelves. Gun racks and canons and other more progressed weapons were divided up in the middle of the room. "How did you get all of this?"

"We make sure we uphold some connections in the army. We've been smuggling them in behind your backs," he informed her.

Raising her eyebrows, she said, "Well not really. Maxon was probably just turning a blind eye."

He smiled. "Touché." He jogged to a rack down the center aisle and lifted a gun. "This is my favorite. It's a musket dating back to the American Revolution. We stole it from the Smithsonian. Look, there's some damage to the barrel but it still works perfectly."

She stared at it in wonder. A gun that was over four hundred years old. That was almost unfathomable to her except for the fact that it was sitting right in front of her. He put it back on the rack gingerly and led her through the maze of racks and shelves to the back of the room.

"My favorite powder. It's imported from Peru and for some reason, when lit up, the explosion looks almost purple. Our bomb techs have this scientific explanation for it that I never remember but it's still wondrous." He patted the keg of powder and sighed. He was about to say something but they heard voices from the entrance of the room.

"I need twenty guns – the best you have. We're going to need ammo, magazines…I'm not asking for gold-cased bullets for God's sake," a voice echoed through the room.

America frowned at Sawyer as someone rounded a corner to where they were standing. She turned and saw him: the very person she was most scared of seeing.

"America," he said, looking just as scared as her.

She nodded cordially to him. "Maxon."

I know it was short but I believe the next chapter is fairly long. I'm just too lazy to look now. Special shout-outs:

Lady Unimportant: wait wait wait, what do you mean with the part about Libby? did I write something I didn't know about?

Guest: You crack me up. (I don't get out much)

Atiyaturrehman64: I just wanted to see if I could spell your name correctly. haha. if it's wrong, i'll try again next chapter.

S: every time I see your name I think of Serena from Gossip Girl

Thanks for the love guys! keep reviewing and keep on being amazing, beautiful creatures!