Aaaaand, here it is! This was mostly a filler chapter. I need some build up before the big action starts. We're getting into the juicy bits very, very soon. :) I'd now like to take the time to thank you all from the bottom of my heart. I can't believe I've gotten this kind of response (or any response at all) from you guys! I love all the lovely reviews! Please keep them coming! And to those very incredible people who have decided to follow and/or favorite this story, thank you ever so much! You're really too kind! Thanks so much for reading! Without you guys, I would be lost, sad, and lonely (well, probably not, but it's the thought that counts, right?) Anyways, buckets full of love, Tickgrey

The next week was perhaps the worst week of my entire life. It began with the announcement to the rest of the school that their headmaster had been killed. I tried to duck out of the dining hall before anyone could look at me, but I wasn't nearly quick enough. Soon the pitying eyes of all my classmates and teachers flickered to me at one point or another (or in Tina's case, the entire time.) It's not that I didn't like their comforting words or well-intended advice; I just really wanted some time alone in my thoughts. My friends had been good about giving me my space, but I even shrugged off Zach's attempts to make me feel better.

The next day, Abby and Mr. Solomon took me up to Langley for Mom's star unveiling and ceremony. This was the second time I had been here in a matter of only months, but this time was much harder. When I was here for Dad's re-dedication things were simpler; I already knew he was dead, so it was really just a formality and some closure. Abby was visibly shaken the entire time which was completely understandable considering what she had been through, but it was weird seeing her like this. I was introduced and re-acquainted with numerous agents and operatives all desperate to tell tales and adventures they shared with my parents. I pretended to listen to most of it. I really just wanted to get back to school and let my mind get busy again.

Unfortunately, Abby had to stay at Langley to resolve some matters with the CIA, but Mr. Solomon and I were able to drive back later that afternoon. Neither of us said a single word on the ride back. I just wanted some peace and quiet, and Mr. Solomon seemed to notice that I needed some space.

But no matter how miserable and sad the ceremony had been, my day got instantly worse when we arrived back on campus. I was feeling particularly nostalgic, so I decided to head through the Hall of History and into my mom's office- or my mom's former office. My path, however, was cut short. There were numerous stuffy-looking agents carrying boxes out of the office. I couldn't get any words out; I just gaped stupidly at the agents. When I was finally able to get to her office, I saw her desk which was now completely bare and the bookshelves which were now empty. Everything was just gone.

I didn't even notice Professor Buckingham slip in until she said, "They're clearing things out until a new headmaster is appointed."

I stuttered, "Wait- you're- you're not-?"

She shook her head before I could finish. "I'm retiring after this year." She sighed, "We all get too old eventually, and this year has been particularly straining."

I nodded feeling almost apologetic. A lot, well, most of her stress had been my fault in some way or another. "But why did they take everything?"

"They're running an internal investigation," Professor Buckingham began. "That's why Abigail was held up at Langley today. They want to know everything about the Circle business."

"What? Do they think you guys were hiding it from them to cover something up?" I gathered, but it seemed highly unlikely.

Buckingham nodded, "Something like that. We did hide a crucial piece of information from the CIA whether we had valid reasons to or not."

"So… is the CIA going after the Circle themselves then?" I asked. I think Professor Buckingham knew what I was insinuating: I wanted to know who exactly was going to avenge my mother's death.

Professor Buckingham just shook her head sadly, "No one. After the internal investigation is complete, which could take months or even years, they will attempt to reconfirm the validity of the evidence we gathered over the years. Considering that the lists' origins are sketchy at best, it's highly unlikely the investigation will ever resume."

"Just like that then?" I gritted my teeth. "They just get to walk away unscathed? No one is doing anything?"

"Sometimes, that's just how it goes," she said matter-of-factly like it had been drilled into her which it probably had been. Operatives are taught to gather information, conduct operations, and then move on without asking questions. I was now starting to see the danger in this.

"That's just how it goes?" I repeated tensing up more and more trying to use her words against her. "That's not good enough!" I snapped.

Professor Buckingham was getting visibly upset as well as she barked back, "Sometimes it just has to be good enough! Things are well out of my control now!"

"Heads should be rolling right now! People should be dead! We should be ripping this organization to shreds!" I raged. "Instead we're just giving them time to rebuild!"

"Once again, I have no control over any of this," she said smoothing her coat. She had already regained her composure when she said, "You should get some rest. You're tired. It's been a long week."

"I haven't been able to sleep since she was kidnapped! And now, every time I close my eyes, I see her- getting shot. Sometimes, I'm there. I'm able to stop it, but I never do. I just watch her fall. I can't even catch her! I just stand there helplessly and watch them kill her," I panted. I was out of breath but I continued on, "But the best part- the best part comes afterwards. I'm strangling some man with my bare hands. I never know who he is, but I know he's the one that killed her. And as he takes his last breaths in my cold, blood-stained hands, I smile and wake up happy and content. Why doesn't it even disturb me that I'm happy about killing someone? Why does it feel good? What's wrong with me?"

I was aware that I probably sounded like a raving lunatic by now. I was also aware that I was shouting at the top of my lungs with the door sitting wide open for the whole school to hear. As I tried to regain my breath, Professor Buckingham stared at me with clinical eyes. After a few very tense minutes, she finally said calmly, "Cameron, you should take tomorrow's classes off. You need some rest. Afterwards, we'll talk some more. I think you need to see someone."

"I'm not crazy," I snapped in a tone that suggested otherwise. Eventually, I just sighed and bitterly said, "Fine."

I didn't wait for a response before I walked out of the room still fuming. I didn't even give a moment's notice to the gathering crowds in the hall watching me curiously. No one ever talked this way to teachers or acted this way. I flew up the stairs and ran to my room as quickly as possible. Thankfully, my roommates weren't there, so I was able to spend some time thinking.

No one was doing anything. There was nothing I could do. My friends would never come with me or let me go now to stop them myself. Not after what had just happened. Finally, an idea popped into my head. It was completely crazy, but it just might work because of that. I reached into my bag and pulled out a small scrap of paper with a phone number on it and dialed on the cell we used for the embassy operation. When I heard the answering line click, I calmly asked, "Are you still interested in that ledger?"