Chapter 58...

"You are receiving a call from the Western Wayne Correctional Facility in Plymouth, Michigan. Will you accept the charges?"

"Yes," Chris said quickly, sitting down. What would Nancy be calling him for? He'd just gotten to Detroit and he hadn't told her he was coming. He was planning on trying to talk to her again about Frank's murder. He still thought that if he got the whole truth, he could help Taylor. There was a soft clicking and then he heard Nancy's voice, "Chris, is that you?"

"Nancy, is everything okay?" he asked, worried.

"Chris, it's Taylor," Nancy sounded panicked. "You have to find her. She came here. They wouldn't let her see me. She hasn't tried to come here in years. Something must be wrong. You have to find her, I'm afraid she's going to do something stupid."

"Calm down," Chris said, though he wasn't sure he could take his own advice. "It's gonna be okay. I'll find her."


Jeff had made it to his car when he heard Viveca's heels clicking behind him.

"Jeff I'm sorry," she said, her voice full of emotion.

He stopped moving but couldn't bring himself to turn and face her.

How could she do this? How long had this been going on?

"I gotta go," he said, not wanting to talk to her. He felt like an idiot. Days earlier he'd been stressing himself out so much he felt sick trying to create the perfect proposal for her and now she was kissing Adam.

"Jeff please don't be mad," Viveca held his arm.

"Don't be mad?" Jeff laughed. "I catch you kissing my fucking friend and you tell me not to be mad?"

"It wasn't my fault. We were talking and he kissed me and-"

"I don't wanna hear the details Viveca," Jeff said, opening the car door.

"Jeff please listen to me," she grabbed his arm. He turned, looking into her pale green eyes. "Honey I promise you…this happened one time. I didn't mean for it to happen. I was just so upset and Adam he…It wont happen again I swear to you…Please just forgive me."

Jeff shook his head, "Why should I?"

"Because I love you," Viveca cried.

Jeff got into the car, "Yeah I thought you did."


Mark fumed as they parked in front of Dawn's house. He still couldn't believe what Cory did. He couldn't believe she lied to him. Cory and Jessica followed them in Cory's rental car to the house. After a few minutes, they pulled into the driveway. Cory got out of the car sniffing and puffy eyed. He shook his head, looking away.

"She hasn't gotten her mail," John pointed out. Dawn's mailbox was stuffed beyond it's limit.

Mark retrieved the key he knew she kept under a potted plant and opened the door slowly.


"Oh my God," Cory gasped, her hand covering her mouth when they walked into Dawn's house.

All the furniture was overturned, books, magazines, everything was strewn everywhere. The TV was on and it was turned up very loud. John walked over and turned it off.

"Dawn!" Mark yelled, walking quickly through the first floor. They all joined in, calling Dawn's name, Cory walked upstairs with John in tow.

"D!" Cory yelled. "Dawn, are you here?"


Mark tried to keep himself calm but it was hard. The house had obviously been ransacked.

"Dawn!" he yelled, swinging open every door. He left no stone unturned. Closets, bathrooms, he had to find her.

He opened the door to her home office and his heart stopped. The room had been completely redecorated. The walls were pink and pale green. There was one of those fancy round cribs in the center of the room. There were two large, very comfortable looking chairs and stuffed animals on the floor.

"Where the hell are you?" he asked, looking around the room. He stopped when he saw something on the dresser. It was a small picture in a silver frame. He remembered when the picture was taken. It was on Dawn's birthday. Cory took it. They were all eating dinner and Cory was taking 1,001 pictures. Dawn still had food in her mouth when Cory took this particular one. Mark's heart sank when he realized what was wrong with the picture. Dawn's eyes were scratched out.


"Hey Vogle," Officer Jenks yanked open the door to Carmen and Nancy's cell. "Doctor wants to see ya."

"The doctor?" Nancy's delicate features frowned. "What for?"

"Don't know what for Nancy, I didn't ask," the officer rolled her eyes. "Get off your ass."

"I'm coming," Nancy got up, wiping her eyes. Carmen, who was sitting on the bed with her looked worried.

"I'll go but if Chris comes back-"

"I know, I know, your daughter," Jenks rolled her eyes again. "We get any news I'll let ya know now come on..You don't wanna keep the doc waiting."


John watched as Cory paced back and forth in front of the vending machines in the police station. Mark was talking to some of the detectives. Cory had already talked to them for an hour. He'd never seen her look as upset as she did when Mark berated her for lying. Angry as he'd been, he just wanted to reach out and hold her. Mark was right to be angry with her but…he could understand why she did what she did. She got a Diet Coke out of the vending machine and John could see that her hands were violently shaking. Her eyes and nose were bright red and her tan skin looked pale.

It didn't matter that they'd had it out earlier that day. He couldn't just stand by and watch her like that.

"Anything I can do?" he walked over, sitting on one of the benches. She sat next to him, looking up at him with the saddest blue eyes he'd ever seen.

"Can we forget about what happened between us earlier for a little while?" she asked. "I just…I need someone to talk to and Jessie's talking to the police."

"It's forgotten," he assured her.

"Thanks," she tried for a smile but her lips started to tremble and tears filled her eyes again. She shook her head, "Where could she be John?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. He wrapped his arms around her as tightly as he could without hurting her. She leaned against him, her tears quickly soaking through his shirt.

"I should've told Mark earlier," Cory sniffed. "I shouldn't have let him go on thinking that Dawn left just because. If he had known she wouldn't have left. He wouldn't have let her. And then..I just…I'm so scared John. This is all my fault."

"No it's not," he insisted. "I know you're scared but this is not your fault. "We're gonna find her…I promise."


Taylor walked around the house, looking around. She'd just walked through her parents old bedroom and now she was walking through hers. She just needed a trigger. She needed to see something, hear something. Anything that could help her remember. She opened up the closet door and something on the top shelf caught her eye. It was a red piece of cloth. She reached up, pulling it down, frowning when she saw it. It wasn't red. Originally it had been blue. She remembered that shirt clearly, it was one of her favorites. And it was covered in blood stains.

She closed her eyes, trying to remember what happened the last time she wore the shirt. She sat down in the corner and opened her eyes. She wasn't in a dingy, abandoned old room anymore. Now she was in her bedroom, staring at herself and her mother…

"Pack your bags sweetheart, hurry," Nancy rushed her daughter, clearing her clothes out of the closet and tossing them into ratty old suitcases. They were falling apart but they were all she had.

"Mom, what if he comes home early?" Taylor asked.

"He wont," Nancy said, though her voice waivered with uncertainty. "He usually comes home late, not early. Now hurry up baby, we have to get out of here."

"But last time-"

"Taylor forget about last time," Nancy said in a stern tone. She put her hands on her daughter's shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. "We have to try again."

"But mom..." Taylor's bottom lip quivered and those eyes, her father's eyes, filled with tears. "He said..he said he would kill us if we tried to leave. Even if we did, he'd kill us when he finds us.."

"Then we'll go where he cant find us," Nancy said, her heart breaking. She knew her daughter wanted to leave just as badly as she did but she was terrified. Nancy was too but she couldn't let that stop her. He threatened to kill them if they left but he would surely kill them if they stayed. "We have to try."

Taylor looked up at her mother, her heart beating through her chest. Nancy's hair was wet from going outside and loading things into the car. She had a dark bruise surrounding her right eye and her neck was bruised too. Two nights earlier, Frank had choked her up against the wall until she passed out. She knew her mother was right. They had to go.

"Do you really think we can find someplace where he wont find us?" Taylor asked.

"Taylor..I will not let him hurt you anymore," Nancy pulled her into a hug. "I promise. This has to stop."

Taylor rested her head against her mother's chest, shutting her eyes tightly and praying. She never prayed anymore because she figured if there was a God, he obviously didn't feel the need to look out for her. But this time seemed like as good a time as any to beg someone, anyone, to help them find a way out.

They were startled out of their silence when a loud noise sounded throughout the house. It was distinctly different than the claps of thunder they'd been hearing all day. This was the sound of a door slamming.

"Nancy!" Frank's voice boomed, ten times more frightening than the storm raging outside. Taylor could feel her mother shaking. Or maybe it was her. Or both of them. "Taylor!"

"What are we gonna do?" Taylor whispered, tightly gripping her mother's sleeves. "He had to see the car. What are we gonna do?"

They heard his loud footsteps bounding up the stairs and Nancy took a deep breath, gripping Taylor's shoulders again, "Get in the bathroom."


"Taylor, just do as I say," Nancy insisted. "Get in the bathroom. Lock the door. Do not come out until I come to get you. Understand?"


"Don't come out until I come get you."

Nancy watched as her daughter darted into the bathroom and she heard the door lock. She counted to 3, taking a deep breath as she heard his footsteps. She turned around and found herself only a few feet away from him, his eyes boring into hers. Her eyes darted down to his hand which had a white knuckled grip on the handle of one of the suitcases she'd packed into the car. He dropped it hard onto the floor, still glaring a hole right through Nancy.

"What the hell is this?" he pointed down at it.

Nancy opened her mouth but no words came. She willed herself to speak but her brain didn't send any words to her mouth.

"What is it?" Frank yelled and she could swear she felt his booming voice vibrating through her.

He kicked the bag toward her and she quickly jumped out of the way before it hit her leg.

Nancy inched toward the stairs and he didn't tear his gaze away from her for a second. She felt her feet touch the first step and that was all she needed. She turned, racing down the stairs as fast as her legs would carry her. She prayed Taylor heeded her warning and stayed put until she came to get her.

"Where the fuck are you going?" Frank followed her, taking two steps at a time. She ran towards the kitchen and he caught up to her. She ran into the closest room, the kitchen, with him on her heels. The back door was only a few feet away but she wasn't going to set foot outside the house. Not without her little girl. She turned and he stepped front of her and blocking the doorway.

"Have you lost your mind?" he asked. "Huh? HAVE YOU?"

"I'm leaving," Nancy said, her voice trembling, her whole body shaking. "I'm taking my baby and we're getting out of here."

Frank shook his head, the corner of his mouth tilting up into that smile. That smile that had drawn her in when she first met him. The same smile that could scare the living daylights out of her now.

"No you're not," Frank shook his head. "You're not going anywhere."

"Yes I am!" Nancy yelled, hoping that by yelling, screaming rather, she could convince him. And herself.

""No you're not!" He yelled back, taking a few steps and closing the gap between them. "You aren't going anywhere and neither is Taylor."

Nancy tried to speak but he cut her off.

"You don't seem to understand," Frank smiled that terrifying smile. "I will kill you before I let you walk out of this house."

Nancy trembled, knowing that he meant every word he said. She could see it in his eyes.

He walked toward her and she backed up, wishing that her nerves weren't so shot. She couldn't stop shaking.

"Haven't we gone over this before?" he asked. "I own you. You and that kid."

His eyes were trained on hers and she reached behind her, fumbling with a drawer handle. He was saying something but she couldn't hear him over the sound of her heart beating.

She pulled the drawer open just a few inches as he spoke, sliding her slim hand inside. The second she felt something cold against her skin, she gripped it, wincing when she felt a knife blade cut into her hand. They were usually turned the other way.

"What are you doing?" he asked, noticing the twitch.

Nancy found the handle of the knife and pulled it out of the drawer. Her hands shook violently as she held it up, "Get away from me."

His smile appeared again and there was practically a twinkle in his eye as he shook his head, "What are you gonna do with that?"

"Get away from me Frank," she tried to sound more stern but her voice cracked. She gripped the knife tightly in both hands trying to look into his eyes.

He rubbed his hand over his chin, smile still in place then, before she knew it, the back of his hand was flying at her face. She fell to the ground and he kicked her. She clutched her stomach with her bloody hand, trying to stand back up, his laughter causing a rage to boil inside her.

He truly was the sickest person she'd ever met.

The pain in her stomach showed no signs of going away and she couldn't make it to her feet. She tried to crawl away and he simply watched her, still laughing. He let her get near the doorway before he caught up to her, his foot dropping onto the hand that held the knife. She screamed, letting it go as he pressed his weight onto her hand. He bent down, snatching it up, "What were you gonna do with this, huh?"

She looked up at him, pain shooting through her hand and her stomach. She could feel her cheek starting to swell. The menacing glint in his blue eyes told her that she wasn't anywhere near the end of the pain she would feel. He wasn't smiling anymore.

"Were you gonna kill me Nancy?" he asked, leaning down, his face close to hers.

He stood up abruptly, grabbing her by the hair and yanking her up with him, "Do it Nancy."

She stared at him, sure she hadn't heard him right.

He forced the knife into her hands, his eyes wild, "Why don't you just fuckin' do it?"

She cried, trying to let go of the knife. She was positive some of the bones in her hand were broken. She'd felt them crack. He pressed her fingers around it and she could feel tears streaming down her face.

"Hold it!" he yelled.

"No!" she cried.

"Hold it!" he squeezed his hand around hers. He backed up a few steps and Nancy tried to hold back her sobs. She was shaking so badly she was sure she'd drop the knife but she held on for fear that he would kill her if she did.

"Come on you pathetic bitch," he sneered. "You took the knife out..Do something with it."

"Frank…" she pleaded.


Nancy turned her head in the direction of doorway and so did Frank. There stood their daughter, eyes wide and filled with tears.

"Mom you're bleeding," Taylor cried.

"Taylor I told you to stay upstairs," Nancy said through clenched teeth.

Nancy slowly turned toward Frank again. She could see the gears grinding in his mind. The corner of his mouth lifted and Nancy's heart beat faster.

"Taylor go back upstairs," she said quickly.

"But Mom-"

"Taylor!" Nancy yelled. "Go Back Upstairs!"

"Taylor you stay right where you are," Frank smiled.

"Go!" Nancy ordered.

"Taylor, you know damn well which one of us to listen to," Frank said. "You stay right where you are."

Frank walked slowly toward Nancy and then his arm shot out. He grabbed her hair so hard she let go of the knife again and it clanked loudly on the floor. He kicked it away so hard it stuck into the bottom of the back door.

"I told you what I'd do if you tried to leave Nancy," Frank whispered, his lips touching her ear. "I wasn't expecting an audience but..maybe it's best that you go first. That way our daughter can see what she's in for."

"Frank.." Nancy cried. "Please."

"Taylor," Frank said calmly. "I hope you said a nice goodbye to your friends at school today."

Taylor felt her heart beating out of her chest as her father walked toward her.

"Don't you touch her!" Nancy yelled.

Frank stopped walking, turning toward her mother again.

"I am so sick of the sound of your voice," Frank shook his head, walking toward her.

Taylor couldn't take it anymore. When she saw him raise his hand to her mother again, before she knew what she was doing, she ran at him, both arms straight out, pushing him roughly. He stumbled back, almost falling. When he regained his footing, he turned to her looking shocked and most importantly, infuriated. He grabbed the sleeve of her shirt, practically throwing her into the back door. She felt something crack when her back hit the wall and her eyes filled so quickly with tears that she couldn't see. She briefly wondered if this was going the be the day that he finally made good on his promises. Was he going to kill them?

She tried to get up but her back hurt so badly she could barely move. Her vision was still blurred with tears but she could hear the distinct sound of her father's fist meeting with her mother. Nancy cried out loudly and Frank ordered her to shut up. After a few seconds, the only sounds Taylor could hear were her father's blows and her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She had to do something. She had to stop him before he killed her.

"Stop it!" she screamed, her voice cracking. "Leave her alone!!"

He ignored her and Taylor tried to pull herself up, using a drawer that was slightly open. Before she could make it to her feet, the drawer slipped out of the frame and it's contents clanked loudly on the floor. She jumped back as the silverware scattered around her. She still couldn't see clearly but she started feeling around on the floor for something, anything.

Then, she suddenly felt like her hair was being yanked out of her head.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Frank yelled.

She was standing, though just barely, and he reared back, slapping her hard across the face. Taylor felt blood on the back of her mouth and she heard the sounds of her mother whimpering in the corner of the room. Her heart beat grew louder and louder and as his fist came near her again, her arm shot toward him as if it had a mind of it's own.

"Leave me alone!" she screamed, swinging at him again and again. "Leave me alone! I hate you!"

"Taylor stop!" Nancy yelled. "Stop!"

She gasped when she felt her father slump against her. He knocked her onto the floor and she screamed, crawling out from under him, kicking at him with her legs. She heard a noise on the floor as she crawled away and she looked down at her hand, gasping again when she saw the knife in her hand. It was covered in blood. She was covered in blood. His blood. She dropped it, looking across the floor, screaming when she saw his blank eyes staring back at her.

Her mother rushed over to her, though she seemed to be in an immense amount of pain.

"Oh my God, oh my God, mommy, what happened?" Taylor could hear herself asking.

"It's okay sweetheart," Nancy consoled.

"He wouldn't stop," Taylor cried, shaking her head. "He was never gonna stop."

"I know," Nancy nodded. "Taylor…I want you to give me the knife."


"Give me the knife," Nancy said, her shaky voice a little louder as she grabbed a dish towel off of the counter. Taylor handed her the knife and Nancy used the towel to wipe off the knife handle. Then she clenched her own hand around it, pressing tightly.

"Mom, what are you doing?" Taylor asked.

"It's gonna be okay," Nancy assured her. She repeated that over and over as she took Taylor upstairs and got her a change of clothes. Then, she brought her daughter back to the closet, opening the door, "I want you to sit in here…and don't come out until someone comes to get you…okay? Promise me."

"But mom-"

"Taylor…do not come out until someone comes to get you."

Taylor nodded softly, sitting on the floor of the dark closet, trembling from head to toe.

Nancy knelt in front of her, pressing her forehead against her daughters, "I love you."

"I love you too Mom," Taylor sniffed.

Without saying anything else, Nancy stood up and closed the door.

Taylor laid down on the floor of the closet, the pain in her back making her dizzy. What had she done? What was going to happen now?


1 Hour Later...

Chris ducked under the top half of the broken door, a shiver going up his spine when he found himself inside the home he knew so many horrible things had happened in. He couldn't focus on that though. He couldn't think about the past. He needed to find Taylor and he needed to find her fast.

"Taylor!" he yelled, walking into a room that he assumed used to be a living room. There were a few furniture pieces strewn about but the place was pretty much abandoned and covered in dust and dirt. "Taylor!"

He didn't get a response but he knew she was there. He saw a rental car down the street. He kept walking, looking around. Then he tripped over something. He knelt down to pick it up, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the car keys.

"Taylor!" he yelled, running toward the kitchen. The dust was picking up and stinging his eyes but he didn't care. He needed to find her. When he reached the kitchen, he saw that there was a drawer open. He felt bile rise in his throat when he looked inside and saw that it was a silverware drawer.

"Taylor, where are you?" Chris yelled, running out of the kitchen. He ran up the stairs but stopped midway when he saw tiny red drops on the floor. He went up a few stairs and saw that the drops were getting bigger.

"Shit," he spat, taking the rest of the stairs two at a time. At the top of the staircase he saw a bloody handprint on the wall.

He heard a noise to his left and he turned, his worst fear realized when he saw Taylor. She was slumped over on the floor of a closet, blood covering her wrists and hands. Her skin was pale and she was shaking.

"Oh my God," he rushed to her, pulling her up to a sitting position. "Taylor, what did you do?"

He felt sick to his stomach when he looked down and saw the knife on the floor.

"Shit," he looked around, fumbling for something to try and stop the bleeding.

She mumbled something in his ear but he couldn't understand her.

"What?" he gripped her shoulders, looking at her. "What did you say?"

"I wasn't supposed to come out," she said, her eyes not focused on anything in particular. "She told me not to come out but I did…I was so scared."

"Taylor," he smoothed her hair away from his face. "That was years ago, it's over now."

She shook her head, tears flowing down her face, "She told me to stay her, she told me not to come out but I did…I didn't mean…I didn't mean for it to happen Chris I swear..I didn't…"

She leaned forward on his shoulder and Chris finally remembered his cell phone. He put one arm around her, holding her close to him and with his other he pulled the phone out of his pocket, dialing 9-1-1.


Nancy felt an odd calm come over her body as she lay in the storage closet. She looked down, seeing the wounds he'd inflicted. She couldn't really feel her arm, or any other part of her body for that matter, but she somehow managed to raise it, touching her stomach. She brought her hand up in front of her face, her breath catching in her throat when she saw the blood.

She never imagined she would see him again. Especially not like this.

She could feel her breath getting short and she could barely keep her eyes open. She looked down at her right hand, her vision was blurred but she could see what she was holding. The picture of Taylor that Chris had given her.

"I love you," she whispered, beginning to cough.

With her last breaths it finally hit her…She was in jail for a murder she didn't commit, and now…she had been murdered because of it.


"Goodnight Doctor," Officer Jenks smiled as the correctional facility's new doctor left the building for the day.

"Goodnight," he said quickly before leaving.

She waved at him before going about her final rounds for the evening. She had to do one last check before the shift change. She had to check in on all of the inmates and make sure all the closets and staff bathrooms were clear. She finished her rounds and in an hour she was on her way out of the building, waving to the incoming shift.

"Everything look okay Rhona?" one of her fellow officers asked.

"Oh yeah," she smiled, nodding. "Everything looks great."


Chris rummaged frantically through the drawers, trying to find something suitable to cover Taylor's wrist. Everything in the house was so old and dusty he couldn't find anything clean enough to put on her cuts. The last drawer he got to was locked. Frustrated and at the end of his rope, he used both hands and practically ripped the front off, tossing it onto the floor. He ignored the pain he felt in some of his fingers, digging the contents out of the drawer. A small metal box with a lock on it tumbled out and he stopped, staring at it for a second. Then, he shook his head, turning his focus back to his search. He still hadn't found anything and it didn't look like he was going to. Out of options, he took off his jacket and pulled his short off over his head as he ran back to her side. He took the razor she'd discarded and cut the shirt enough to make it easy to rip apart. He propped her limp body up, wrapping the pieces of fabric around her wrists.

"Taylor, you gotta stay with me," he pleaded. "I called 9-1-1, they're coming, you just gotta hang on for a few minutes, okay?"

He pressed his hands on the makeshift bandages, knowing that pressure was supposed to help stop the bleeding. The paramedics needed to get there soon. He couldn't lose her. Not like this.


Dawn was beginning to have trouble telling when she was asleep and when she was awake. She'd had a blindfold on for somewhere around two weeks now. Her face felt tight from drying tears. Her stomach hurt from a mixture of fear and hunger, and a thousand other emotions. She hadn't heard a sound except for the birds outside in hours.

She tensed, her stomach turning in knots when she heard footsteps in the hall. She clenched her eyes shut tightly, hoping that if she prayed hard enough, the footsteps would go away.

They didn't.

"Well it's about time you got up mommy to be," she heard Savannah's cheerful voice. "Time for your medicine."

Dawn felt like she was going to vomit. She didn't know much about this woman but she'd learned quickly that the person who identified herself as 'Savannah' was unpredictable and psychotic. Dawn's last vivid memory was from the day of Wrestlemania. She'd ordered pizza and when she heard the bell, she naturally assumed the delivery man was at the door. When she opened it, she was met by a person dressed in black wearing a mask. She could barely even see their eyes. Savannah pushed her way into the house and threatened her with a gun. Dawn tried to fight her off but Savannah hit her in the head with something, knocking her out. After that, Dawn remembered waking up in a car with a blindfold tightly covering her eyes. Her hands and feet were tied and she was laying on the floor of the backseat. They drove for a very long time without a single word and then they just..stopped. Dawn was incredibly groggy and she didn't know if it was from being knocked out or if Savannah had drugged her. The other woman took her out of the car and after a long walk, they entered what Dawn could only assume was a house. She'd shackled Dawn to the bed and that's where she'd been ever since.

Savannah had obviously been planning this for a long time. She'd pressed the gun to Dawn's head that night and a phone to her ear, forcing her to call Cory and leave her a message claiming she was going out of town. She'd packed all of Dawn's pre-natal medication and vitamins. Dawn was more and more frightened every time she was in the woman's presence. Savannah seemed to loathe Dawn's very existence but she was completely and totally enamored with her pregnancy. She would have just thought she was some infertile psychopath kidnapping a pregnant woman but..Dawn was barely showing and no one except Cory, her mother, and her doctor even knew about her pregnancy. And she seemed to have such a personal hatred towards Dawn. This wasn't random.

Savannah yanked the cloth gag out of her mouth and Dawn took deep breaths, grateful to be rid of it.

She could hear Savannah sit on the bed beside her and she wished that she could reach out and choke the life out of her but she couldn't. She was shackled so tightly she could barely move.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Dawn asked, her voice raspy.

"I didn't come here to talk, I came to give you your medicine," Savannah said, her tone still chipper.

Part of what was so terrifying about her was her ever changing demeanor. Savannah could go from childlike and jovial to malevolent and violently angry in seconds.


"Shut up," Savannah said. She sounded like her teeth were clenched. "Swallow the pills."

Dawn obeyed the order, choking when Savannah poured water down her throat.

"Hurry up," Savannah ordered.

Once she got the water down, Dawn took more deep breaths, "W-what..why are you so concerned with my baby?"

She'd been too scared to ask until now. The fear hadn't gone anywhere but..she obviously wasn't letting her go anytime soon. There wasn't any reason to wait to ask. She had to know.

"You mean my baby," she could hear the smile in Savannah's voice. "Dawn, there's really no need to be afraid…I'm going to keep you as healthy as I can throughout your term…Then, after you have the baby…I wont need you anymore. That's that."

Savannah giggled and Dawn's stomach lurched up into her throat. It took everything in her not to throw up.

"Now I have to go," Savannah said. "You keep quiet and don't go running off anywhere."

Savannah left the room laughing, closing the door behind her.

Something about Savannah's word choice was plaguing her. Something she said sounded so familiar.

I wont need you anymore…that's that

That's that.

I suppose that's that..Have a good day.

Hello, you've reached the voicemail of Cory Samms. This is her personal assistant and I'll be receiving most of her messages. If this is a business inquiry, press 1 and leave your message, the purpose of your call, and contact information. If this is a personal call press 2 and leave your message. I will get Ms. Samms the message as soon as possible. I suppose that's that, have a good day."


Chris sat in the waiting room, praying for word on Taylor. He'd called Viveca and Jeff and they were both on their way. He'd tried to get a hold of John, Cory, and Mark but none of them answered their phones. He just wanted her to know she had support. He wanted her to know that the people who cared about her would stand by her no matter what. He was so scared that he was going to lose her. The nurses kept telling him to 'sit tight' and that they would 'let him know as soon as they hear something'. He wasn't sure how much longer he could just sit there doing nothing.

He stood up, pacing back and forth. He couldn't stop fiddling around with things. He would run his hands through his hair or pick at something on the shirt he bought from the hospital gift shop. He sighed, shoving his hand in his pockets. He winced when he felt his already sore hand hit something. He'd forgotten that he picked up the metal box he found in the locked drawer at Taylor's house. He didn't know why but something just told him to. Grateful for the momentary distraction, he pulled the small tin out of his pocket and sat back down. The lock on it was old and rusty and it popped open without much force. Three folded up pieces of paper fell out onto his lap. Frowning, he unfolded the papers, confused when he realized that they looked like birth certificates.

"What the hell?" he mumbled out loud, laying them on the table in front of him. They were old and the ink was somewhat smudged but when he focused, he could make out the names. And when he did, he was glad he was sitting down.

Jessica Whitney Everett born June 27th

Taylor Anne Everett, born November 25th

Corinne Charlotte Everett, born October 31

"There's no way," Chris shook his head in disbelief. These couldn't be the people he thought they were.

Then, he looked at the mother's names

Brenda Farrell

Nancy Vogle

Adelle Samms

"Jessie Farrell, Taylor Vogle, Cory Samms," Chris said aloud. "Holy Shit."

The certificates were issued from different Michigan hospitals, obviously in different years, but they all had one common thread. The Father's name…

Frank Everett.


So obviously there's a sequel coming. It's going to start a few months after where this one leaves off. I'll start posting when I can, that is if you want to know what happens? ya peeps!