
The Four Points

Chapters 1-10

J. J. Melvin

www.JJMelvin.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

Copyright © 2014 JJ Melvin

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.

Book cover design and layout by,

Ellie Bockert Augsburger of Creative Digital Studios.

www.CreativeDigitalStudios.com

Cover design features:

Depression Industry: © freshidea / Adobe Stock

Pain Management: © freshidea / Adobe Stock

Editing Services provided by,

Carl Augsburger of Creative Digital Studios.

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## CONTENTS

  * PREFACE
  * CHAPTER 1. THE FIRST DAY
  * CHAPTER 2. REALIZATION
  * CHAPTER 3. SUSPECT
  * CHAPTER 4. STRANGERS
  * CHAPTER 5. SPOTLIGHT
  * CHAPTER 6. HOME SWEET HOME
  * CHAPTER 7. THE FOUR POINTS
  * CHAPTER 8. REALLY, BACK TO SCHOOL
  * CONNECT
  * CHAPTER 9. SCHOOL CEMETERY
  * CHAPTER 10. REAL OR FICTION
  * ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  * ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

This book is dedicated to my husband, my daughter, and my son.

Thank you for being the brightest diamonds in my life.

"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face."

ELEANOR ROOSEVELT

# 

# Preface

Would I have fallen in love if I knew he would leave? Did I believe the saying, "It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?"

I should have listened to my own voice telling me to stay away from him, the only voice trying to protect my heart. All men leave... I had learned this from an early age. I tried my best to fight, to keep him at bay, but he broke down my defenses. He was able to make me do something I swore I would never do... fall in love.

He helped show me who I truly was. He helped me recognize my power, realize my potential, and understand my destiny. I was sworn to protect the earth, sworn to be one of its defenders, but the Watchers were right about me, my soul held darkness.

All evidence of the insecure little girl I once was had disappeared. I was ready for war. The windows shattered as my fury grew. The winds blew faster and faster; the tornado was easy to create, but would I be able to control my powers as my wrath became unleashed? I gazed into the moist blue eyes that had on many occasions before promised to love me forever—promised to stay—yet there he was...leaving. I didn't care whether it was his choice or not; love was being taken away just like it had always been. I could feel my heart turning cold. I was losing myself.

Could I remain on the side of light when I was being enveloped by anger? Did the world deserve my protection when it did not protect me? Staring into the face of the man that became my everything, I knew I could never regret loving him—but would losing him be the end of me, the end of Erika? 

# Chapter 1

THE FIRST DAY

It was the first day of my junior year. I walked down the crowded hall, clutching my books to my chest with my head down. I kept repeating in my mind, no more, no more, no more. This was a tool I created to help keep the voices out. I didn't mind listening to my own voice. It was the other voices I hated hearing, the voices that made it through the static wall I created. The ones that were never meant for my ears. I was able to fill my mind with a constant buzz like when you turn the radio to a non-working station, a loud static type of noise. I know it's weird that I would work so hard and choose to live with this annoying sound, and it was annoying, but it was better than the alternative—hearing people's thoughts. There are just some things you can never unhear, thoughts that put images in your mind that you can never unsee.

The scene was the same as it had been since my freshman year at Riverton High. On my right, lockers lined the long off-white walls, and to the left of me were the same students walking by in a blur of inaudible noise. As I strategically shuffled through the never-ending stream of bodies, my eyes focused on the same pieces of gum stuck to the same stained marble floor as last year. My concentration was broken when I heard a familiar high screeched annoying laugh. I lifted my head to see where the noise was coming from, and instantly regretted it. My eyes landed straight on Joanne and her groupies. These girls were never alone. If they didn't travel in a pack, they were always in pairs.

"Hey Erika, where'd you get that outfit from, the baby store, Gymboree?" All of her cronies laughed simultaneously at Joanne's great wit.

Joanne was my friendly high school tormentor. She and her friends were all cheerleaders, and looked more like they were in their twenties than their teens. As for me, on the other hand... well... I looked like I was twelve.

I put my head down, inhaling their nauseating perfume. I continued my walk, hoping they would leave me alone... but of course that didn't happen. Valerie, who was also a softball player and resembled a teenage bodybuilder, decided to join in on the fun. Knocking me back with all her weight, my books fell to the floor with a resounding thud. It probably didn't take much effort on her part; I weighed ninety-five pounds soaking wet.

"Hey Erika, you should really watch where you're going." Valerie's taunt echoed in my pounding ears. I took my now empty hand and rubbed at my throbbing shoulder.

Once again, the group of girls cackled as they continued walking down the hall, reinforcing their admiration for their leaders, Valerie and Joanne.

I just glared after them. What else was I supposed to do?

Valerie used to be my best friend and was a big part of why I made myself stop hearing the thoughts of others. As I bent down to pick up my books I remembered back to a time before the static, when my mind was clear, when I had no barriers in place to keep other's thoughts out. I was eight years old when I heard and saw what created the Valerie of today. I didn't mean to hear her thoughts and even though things turned out the way they did, I still wasn't sorry I'd tried to help. I just hoped that what I'd seen was no longer going on.

Valerie was wearing her new pink-and-white striped pajamas in honor of our first sleepover. We were so excited running around the house giggling all day. We were in the throes of a heated pillow fight when Valerie's pajama shirt slipped off her shoulder, exposing a large purplish bruise. The discoloration stood out in violent contrast to her soft ivory skin. My mom was the first to point out the mark. Her curiosity was what prompted the tsunami of sound and images that flooded my mind. I was intruding on secrets that were not intended to be shared. I couldn't breathe. I gasped for air. I was reliving Valerie's memory. A combination of feelings washed over me—fear, loathing, love and then—the images rushed in. Valerie's feet dangled off the ground, her tiny hands furiously clawed at the larger ones clasped around her throat. A gut-wrenching primal scream filled my ears. It came from Valerie's mom. She pounced and clawed at the man's face. His skin turned red like the coils on an electric stove burning with fury, his pupils widened. He dropped the small body in his hands and turned his rage on the child's protector. Guilt overwhelmed Valerie as she lay on the floor gasping for air, helpless, not being able to rescue her mom from taking a beating that she had decided was meant for her. With all the breath Valerie could muster she cried out, "Daddy, please no, Daddy don't!"

I couldn't stay silent. I knew I was risking our friendship, but I had to say something. Right there and then in front of Valerie I told my mom what I had seen, what I had read in Valerie's thoughts. Valerie denied everything, she blamed soccer practice for the bruise. She was shouting, tears brimming her eyes, hatred in her voice. "Ms. Melvin, she's crazy! She's a liar!" She pleaded with my mom to take her home. My mom of course obliged, believing that I was making up stories again. Not too long after that incident, and after a few others that continued to alienate me from people, I vowed to make the voices stop.

I was brought back from the past, brought out of my daydream when a gentle hand touched mine to help me with my books. I looked up.

"Hey Robert, I got it. It's okay, you don't have to help."

"You know why they do this to you, don't you, Erika?"

Robert's voice was concerned, his green eyes gazed into mine with a look that told me he understood how I felt.

"No Robert, I don't." I sighed, rolling my eyes.

"It's because they're jealous of you. You don't have to try to be beautiful, you just are. They all have to try so hard."

My anger turned to confusion. I didn't know what to say. No one had ever said I was beautiful before. I could feel my face turning red. Why would he say something like that? Immediately I was aware of how I looked. I moved the hair that had escaped from my loose ponytail and tucked it tightly behind my ears, I quickly grabbed my books and stood up.

"I'm going to be late, Robert." I was desperate to exit our awkward encounter, barely looking into the disappointed eyes that seemed to search for a different reply.

I started to quickly walk away down the hall until I heard Robert's voice again.

"Hey Erika."

I turned to face him, clutching my books tightly against my chest. I stared at Robert, he was tall, with dark hair and green eyes. He had porcelain white skin. I had never noticed how handsome he was. I guess I'd never thought of Robert in any way, especially that way... until then.

"Yes?" I tried to steady the tremble in my voice, my face still feeling hot. I wondered if my coloring gave away how I was feeling.

"Do me a favor, K?" Robert's eyes peered dauntingly into mine.

"Okay, what?" I replied in a tone that showed my hesitance knowing there had to be a motive behind his words.

"You have to promise me to stay away from the quad at lunch, okay?"

Robert's request caught me off guard, and I laughed. All the cool kids hung out in the quad, the cheerleaders, the football players... it was not a place for the anti-social.

"Robert, have you ever seen me in the quad?" I didn't wait for Robert to reply. I turned back around and walked towards my first class.

All through first period—Biology with Mr. Salazar—I thought about my encounter with Robert. _Could he have been serious? Does he really think I'm beautiful? And why does he want me to stay away from the quad? Does he have a girlfriend he's going to eat lunch with in the quad, and he doesn't want her to know that he was flirting with me? He was flirting with me, right? Was this some sort of reverse psychology? Does he want me to go to the quad?_ My swirling thoughts were interrupted by the bell for period two—math with Ms. Cunningham. I hated math and of course all through class I couldn't concentrate. All I could do was think of Robert.

I was sixteen years old and had never had a boyfriend, never been on a date, never been kissed, never even been called pretty... let alone prettier than the prettiest girls in school. How could anyone think that I was prettier than Joanne, Valerie, and their look-alike clones? Was Robert blind? Compared to them I looked like a twelve-year-old boy.

"Erika?" I vaguely heard my name.

"Erika Martin!" I realized Ms. Cunningham was talking to me.

The class stared. Ms. Cunningham was waiting for an answer... but an answer to what?

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear the question, Ms. Cunningham. Can you please repeat it?" I asked quietly as the sharp pangs of embarrassment filled my body.

"Erika, have you heard anything that I've said this whole morning?" Ms. Cunningham's arms were crossed, her lips tightly pressed, her eyes glaring at me waiting for my reply.

Just then, the bell rang. _Thank God! Saved by the bell._ I got up to leave gathering my books from my desk, head down, trying to pretend that Ms. Cunningham wasn't still staring at me.

"Erika, I'd like to see you when you're done gathering your things."

"OOOOOHHHH," I heard echoing from the other students as they walked freely from the room in which I was forced to remain.

I walked up hesitantly to Ms. Cunningham's desk. She watched me approach, seemingly annoyed that I wasn't running.

"Yes, Ms. Cunningham?" I asked, dreading the pending conversation.

Ms. Cunningham peered at me through her glasses. Her dark purplish lipstick bled into the deep lines that surrounded her lips as she pursed them together, preparing for her lecture.

"Erika, I know this is the first day, but if you do not focus you are not going to do well in this class. I expect you to participate in class tomorrow. Class participation points are a huge part of your grade."

"Okay, I will try, Ms. Cunningham." I strained to sound reassuring and interested, but I hated math. Out of all my subjects, math was my least favorite.

"I hope so. You're excused, Erika."

This was not turning out to be a good first day. Next up was period three, the class before lunch, history. I tried to focus and get Robert out of my mind. I didn't need to get in any more trouble. I really liked my history teacher, Mr. Lapinsky. He was animated and funny. Laughter filled his class. History seemed like it was going to be one of my favorite classes. The only downside was that Valerie was in this class with me. I was glad that we could choose our own seats; I chose one as far from Valerie as I could get.

Mr. Lapinsky's class was in room fourteen, right across from the quad. Under regular circumstances I would never set foot in the quad; it was always too loud... but Robert's comments made me curious, and I couldn't wait to see him again. When the bell rang, I made my way to the quad. Of course, Valerie was in front of me making her way to the unofficial designated cheer table.

The quad was like an island, but instead of sand there was concrete and instead of water there was grass. I found a spot on the grassy area far enough from the crowds and sat cross-legged on the ground. I removed my lunch from my bag, carefully scanning the quad for Robert, but he was nowhere in sight. I picked up my sandwich and was about to take a bite when I heard screaming and loud booming noises. At first they sounded like firecrackers, but as the sounds grew closer I knew they weren't.

I had never heard a gunshot in real life before, but the noise was unmistakable. In an instant, it was pandemonium. People were screaming and running everywhere. I sat dazed, unable to move. I watched as people whizzed by me, finally snapping out of it when a pair of feet collided with my motionless body. I laid down on my stomach. I could feel the coldness of the grass seeping its way through my new first-day- of-school light-blue button-down shirt. My forehead was on the grass, my eyes shut tight, hoping that since I could not see anyone maybe they could not see me. When I realized this was a stupid tactic I slowly lifted my head. I wanted to run, to hide, but it was too late.

All movement stopped, all screams quieted. I worked in vain to silence my breathing but the harder I tried the more rapid my breathing became. My eyes were fixated on the only thing moving. On the concrete stood a large pair of shoes, a long black coat swaying inches above them, both moving slowly forward. I could hear the squeak of the rubber soles as they left red footprints in their wake. I looked ahead to where the black army-type boots and coat seemed to be going. They were headed towards the cheer table, towards Joanne, Valerie, and their group of friends. The girls were huddled together under the metal table that now looked like a caged cell. Screaming and crying filled the silence as the footsteps came closer and closer to the iron enclosure. I glanced back to the boots and the jacket, forcing myself to lift my head a little higher to see who the clothing belonged to. It was a boy in my grade, a junior named Trevor.

Trevor was one of the biggest guys in school. He was six feet tall, and overweight. He got picked on a lot for his size. That was something we shared in common. Trevor was carrying a gun. My eyes focused on the weapon. It was black and looked small against his large hands. He pointed it steadily in front of him, his arm extended like a straight steel bar. He screamed at the cheerleaders to come out from under the table or he would kill them all. They crawled one by one from the confines they thought could protect them. Shaking in front of him stood girls who now appeared their age; gone were the adult-like poses of before and in their place stood frail, scared children.

"How does it feel to know you are all going to die?" Trevor's tone was steady and calm.

Trevor and I were not friends, but we were acquaintances. We'd talked a few times, and he was always nice to me. We'd had classes together in the past, but... I never saw this side of him. I never knew he had this side of him. The football players tormented Trevor, just as the cheerleaders tormented me, but I knew it was worse for him, worse for a boy. None of my tormentors had ever touched me, I knew this was not the case for Trevor.

As I laid there, still trying to control my breathing so I wouldn't be noticed, all I could hear ringing through my head were the voices, the cries for help from the girls that had made my high school years miserable. "God! Someone! Please help us! I don't want to die!"

Their pleas were deafening. For the first time in a long time I could no longer block the voices that I had shut out for so many years. My heart raced, my head pounded. I felt like I was being sucked into a vortex. Everything pulsated. I could feel the blood rushing through my body. I could hear each beat of my heart, each pump of my lungs. Then, all of a sudden, everything went eerily silent. Everything was frozen. Everyone was frozen. It was as if I were the only one left in the world that could move. Without thinking, I stood up. Before I knew it, I was standing where the quivering girls all stood hugging and crying. I placed myself between them and Trevor. I spread my arms out in a plea to make Trevor stop.

"Trevor. No, don't do this. Please, you don't want to do this."

My words seemed to set things back in motion. I didn't know why I thought I could convince Trevor to stop. Perhaps it was because I understood him. I understood his pain. But when I looked in his eyes I didn't see pain, I saw rage. This was not the Trevor I knew, and I immediately realized I was in trouble.

"Erika," Trevor screamed, "move out of the fucking way. I will shoot you!"

Just then a familiar voice came from the left of me. It was Robert.

"Trevor, please don't hurt her."

I was confused. Robert was standing there wearing the same black coat as Trevor, holding an arsenal of weapons.

All of a sudden, it made sense. This had been planned. That's why Robert told me to stay away from the quad. As Trevor turned to Robert to argue, I knew this would be my only chance.

I ran towards Trevor and kicked the gun out of his hand. I don't know how I did it, but I knocked him down. I placed one knee on his back and held both his hands tightly with mine pinning him to the ground. Mr. Lapinsky grabbed Trevor's gun and pointed it at Trevor and Robert. He was yelling, waving the gun back and forth between the two. Trevor struggled under me, but I held him tightly to the ground. I was stronger than I thought I was.

"Robert, put down the guns," Mr. Lapinsky's shaky voice demanded.

But instead of putting the guns down, Robert put one to his head. Ignoring Mr. Lapinsky's orders, he walked towards me. I watched Robert move as if in slow motion, his long black coat swishing with each step. I looked up at him as he bent down. He was inches from me as if he were kneeling forward to kiss me. I watched his full red lips coming closer, the contrast they made against his pale skin was strikingly noticeable even in the situation I was in. He stopped, looked me in my eyes, and whispered, "Remember what I told you."

And with one slight movement Robert's finger gently pressed the sensitive trigger that answered with a thunderous bang. A loud beeeeeeeeep filled my ears. Trevor knocked me off of him. He was free, but not for long. Mr. Lapinsky grabbed him. Mr. Lapinsky and two other male teachers struggled to gain control over Trevor. I watched in a daze as their frantic arms wrestled Trevor to the ground.

The screaming resumed. My head felt like it was going to explode. I couldn't move. I just sat there on the cold white concrete and stared at Robert. He was laying there, on his side, the ground absorbing what it could of his blood, the rest making a puddle, a river in the cracks of cement. Robert's green eyes were open. He was staring at me. I couldn't help but gaze back into the same eyes that just hours before had stirred up so much excitement, so much hope for an exhilarating junior year. I looked at Robert's slightly parted red lips and pondered the hopes I'd held for them, the anticipation of my first kiss. I watched deep burgundy liquid flow from his mouth like a fountain holding all it could before overflowing and splashing into the thick, growing pool beneath him. Fluid trickled from Robert's temple caressing his smooth pale face slowly merging with the stream in his mouth. It was like watching rain crawl against a window, different rivulets meeting up with their counterparts, becoming one. I stayed transfixed, observing every divot, every mark on Robert's face for what seemed like hours, until... until I felt someone shaking me. It was Mrs. Wong, our principal.

"Erika, Erika, are you okay, have you been shot, are you injured?"

I didn't answer. I looked down at myself. I was covered in blood, but it wasn't my blood. It was the blood of the only boy who ever thought I was pretty. The only boy who ever said anything nice to me. The only boy who showed any interest in me. The boy who I just started to like. The boy who, with his friend, had just shot students and teachers at my school.

# Chapter 2

REALIZATION

I was placed on a stretcher and wheeled out through the front gates of the school. As I looked around at the path of destruction Trevor and Robert had created, I thought, _What the hell is wrong with me? How could I start liking someone who would do something like this, all because he showed me a little attention, all because he said I was beautiful?_

How fucked up of a person could I be?

The first time that I knew for sure that people had died at the hands of Trevor and Robert was when I got to the hospital. I was wheeled past wailing mothers crying on the floor in agony, fathers pounding their fists against hospital walls. There was so much pain, crying, and screaming everywhere. I could hear their thoughts and feel their pain. For some reason, I could no longer keep out the voices that I'd worked so many years to quiet. I put my hands over my ears; I just wanted to get away. I hummed out loud, trying to bring back the static that kept the voices out. I hummed louder. Nothing was working. I wanted to scream.

Finally, I was brought to a large white room. It looked like an operating room. The putrid scent of medicine and rubbing alcohol filled the air permeating my senses. I squinted my eyes as the bright lights that hung above my head seeped into my pupils, giving me a pounding headache. Every inch of my body was examined. My clothes were carefully removed and placed in plastic bags. I was placed in a hospital gown. I watched as the white gown turned red from the blood that covered me. Question after question was asked. One of the doctors lifted my hair.

"Erika, how did you get this bruise on your neck?" The question came from behind me. I tried to turn, but the nurses held me in place.

"I, I don't know. What bruise?"

"It looks like a brand." I could feel the doctor's latex gloves gently touching me just beneath my hairline.

"Oh, that. It's not a bruise or a brand, it's a birthmark. I've had it since I was born."

"Interesting birthmark. It's in the shape of a diamond." The doctor released my hair and continued to search my body.

"Erika, can you tell me where the pain is?"

"I'm not in pain, I'm not wounded." Hearing her thoughts, I knew why I was in the operating room, they thought I had been shot.

"Then where did all this blood come from?" The doctor was now in front of me wiping the blood from my face with a sterile alcohol-smelling white mesh cloth.

"Robert. It came from Robert." I looked down at my dangling bare feet. The doctor lifted my chin to continue her cleaning.

"Who's Robert?"

"Robert is the boy who did all of this. He shot himself right in front of me. It's his blood."

"And where is Robert now, Erika?"

"He's dead."

For a moment the room paused, the hectic sense of urgency was briefly replaced by silence until the doctor's gentle voice spoke again.

"Okay Erika, we are going to take you to a shower where you can get cleaned up. The school's already notified your mom, and we are going to keep you here for observation."

I was brought to a shower and given a clean new hospital gown and hospital socks. I closed the bathroom door. This was the first time I saw myself. I looked in the mirror. My face still had spatters of blood across it. My hair looked wet and oily. I put my fingers through it, and realized it wasn't oil, water, or sweat. My hands were red; my hair was covered in blood. I felt dizzy and sick to my stomach. I turned on the shower, steam filled the bathroom. I stared in the mirror until I could no longer see my reflection—until the fog took it away. I got into the steaming hot shower. It burned my skin, but I didn't care. It hurt, but still I didn't turn it down. I vigorously scrubbed my face and body. I watched the red water swirl around the shower floor and slowly go down the drain. Over and over I scrubbed every inch of my bare skin raw and washed my hair until the red water was gone. I heard a knock on my door.

"Yes?"

"This is Nurse Michelle, are you okay? You've been in there a really long time."

"Uhmm, yeah, yeah I'm sorry, I'm coming out now," I yelled back over the noise of the water.

I don't know how long I was in the shower. I must have been in there for over an hour, judging by my pruned fingers and my red and purple body. I turned off the water, got out, and put on the hospital gown and socks. Nurse Michelle greeted me with a warm smile when I opened the door.

"Wow. Hot shower," she said as all the steam came wafting towards her.

"Yeah," I replied, doing my best to fake a smile.

"This is your bed." She walked me over to a bed by a large window that faced the nurse's station.

Nurse Michelle helped me get in the bed and placed me under the covers. She noticed me staring at the curtain dividing the room in two and said, "You have a roommate, but she's sleeping. She's also from Riverton High."

"Is she okay?" I was nervous to hear the answer.

"Yes, she's like you; here for shock and observation."

That was the first time I heard my diagnosis. Shock. Shock was their diagnosis. Mine was, I was fucking stupid, lame, and certifiably crazy. _Who stands in front of a lunatic with a loaded gun, and what type of person starts to like a psycho boy because he says she's pretty?_

I had just gotten comfortable in the hard hospital bed when my mom stormed into the room. "What did you do this time, Erika? What is wrong with you? Erika, you always have to be a problem! Ever since you were a baby you were causing problems, and now this. Your sister goes to the same school and she wasn't involved, but you, you always have to cause me problems. Why, Erika, why?"

My mom's tirade was interrupted by the clanking sound of my roommate swinging open the curtain. It was Valerie. _Just my luck!_

"Hey, stop yelling at her. She's a hero. She saved a lot of people's lives today, including mine."

I was in shock. _Was Valerie sticking up for me?_ My mom looked stunned.

I don't think my mom meant to be the way she was, and I knew after her outbreaks she often felt bad at the way she'd treated me. My mom blamed me for ruining her life. She had made it a point to tell me numerous times that I was not planned, nor wanted. As if she needed to tell me. Even though she never fully believed, a part of her wondered if I really could read her thoughts. My sister and I were born eleven months apart; my mom, being young and naïve, didn't know you could get pregnant so soon after having a baby. My arrival made things very difficult for her, and she couldn't help but blame me. Now I'm not saying my mom didn't love me with every fiber of her soul, I know she did. My mom would have given her life for me. She was the strongest person I knew. She just looked for someone to blame when things went wrong. For the past sixteen years I had been her target and, unfortunately for my little brother, he had shared that role since his birth seven years ago.

"Yeah right, Erika a hero?" My mom scoffed at Valerie.

"She is, Ms. Martin! She knocked down the shooter and held him to the ground."

"I'm sure you are trying to help, Valerie," my mom said condescendingly, "but my daughter weighs 80 pounds. She's incapable of holding anyone down."

"Erika, Erika," my mom said as she turned her attention back to me, "why are you just sitting there? Don't you have anything to say?"

At that point I lost it. I had grown a pretty thick skin. I never cried when my mom told me she should have aborted me, I didn't cry all the times she told me I was ugly, all the times she told me I was useless and that I would never amount to anything. Nor did I cry when she told me I would never find a boyfriend or would ever get married because no one would want me. But after all the day's events, I couldn't take it anymore. I started to cry and couldn't seem to stop. Valerie jumped out of bed to get the nurse. The nurse came in and tried to escort my reluctant, screaming mother out.

"I am sorry, Mrs. Martin, but visiting hours are over. Erika's been through a lot and she needs her rest."

"Who do you think you are? You can't make me leave, that is my daughter!" My mom's voice was now loud enough for everyone in the hospital to hear.

Nurse Michelle beckoned for help. A tall young male doctor calmly approached the frantic scene with a look of compassion on his face. He gently placed his hand on my mom's back, ushering her further away until I could no longer hear her voice. I stared at them through the glass pane. I was trying so hard to make out their voices, to hear their thoughts, that I forgot I was still crying... until that was all I could hear. I could barely breathe. My head pounded from crying so hard, pounded from the fluorescent hospital lights, pounded from exhaustion. I turned, placing my back to the window, and met Valerie's eyes. I had forgotten she was still in the room. I wiped my tears away, embarrassed to have cried, especially in front of her.

"Are you okay? Your mom's gotten more intense, huh?"

I didn't reply.

She asked again, "Erika, are you okay?"

Valerie really did sound concerned, and I felt bad ignoring her. It was nice to have her be friendly to me again. I was able to squeak out, "Uh huh."

"Would you like some privacy?"

I nodded and Valerie closed the curtain.

"Erika," the voice behind the curtain said, "thank you—not just for today, but... well, for before, when we were younger. You know, I never told you that my mom left my dad. That night I came home from your house I told my mom that you knew, knew that my dad hit us, and she left him. I think it made it more real that someone else knew. I just wanted you to know that and that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything."

I didn't reply. I was glad Valerie's father was no longer abusing her and that in some way I had helped put an end to it, but I was emotionally and physically drained. I fell asleep within seconds.

In my sleep I saw Trevor and Robert. Robert was standing there staring at me with blood trickling out of his head. We were face to face back in the hall where he first said I was pretty. Trevor stood a few feet away watching us as Robert kept asking, "Why did you go to the quad, Erika? Why, Erika, why?"

He was on his knees begging for an answer, pleading with me to tell him why I didn't listen to him, listen to his warning. I wanted to tell him it was because of him, because of how I felt for him. Because I wanted to see him again, feel the way he made me feel, smile the way he made me smile. But when I opened my mouth to speak I felt the cold steel of Trevor's gun against my right temple and heard a click as he pulled the trigger. I was jolted awake. I sat up startled. It was morning, and I was not alone.

# Chapter 3

SUSPECT

I was surprised and annoyed to find that my room was filled with people. Sunlight shone brightly through the window. I rubbed my eyes, quickly sitting up, covering myself with my blanket. I looked over at Valerie's side of the room. The curtain was open but she wasn't there.

"What, what time is it?"

I looked at the walls for a clock and was just about to reach for my phone on the bedside table when someone in the room replied, "Eleven ten."

There were five people in my room and I had no idea who answered me. I rubbed my eyes harder trying to will myself to snap out of my morning haze.

"Hi Erika, I'm Detective Arthur Nixon," a tall lanky man with a moustache said. "Can I ask you a few questions this morning?"

I didn't answer, I just stared at him. He was towering over me, standing next to my bed. I felt dazed. _Was yesterday just a dream?_ I was trying to grasp what was going on.

"Erika, I'm sorry. Let me start again. Can I get you anything? Are you hungry, thirsty?"

I shook my head to say no.

"I know you've been through a lot in the last 24 hours, but we need your help. Can I ask you a couple of questions?" Before I could answer he continued, "I've already received your mother's permission to talk to you."

I stared at the detective. He stood about 6' 3". His face was weathered and wrinkled. He was a shockingly thin man. His Adam's apple protruded through the leathery skin on his neck. I watched it move up and down as he spoke.

"Uhmm, okay," I replied cautiously.

At my reply the other people in the room all took out little notepads, their eyes fixed on me. I wondered how long all these people were in my room before I woke up. It made me angry. Did my privacy not mean anything to them?

Detective Nixon asked me about my friendship or association with Trevor and Robert. He asked me if I knew about their plans or why they did what they did. I told him I didn't. I chose to leave out the fact that Robert told me to stay away from the quad. I stared at him as he questioned me. I wanted to know what he was thinking. I tried to concentrate, but I couldn't hear his thoughts. That was the thing about my _talent_ ... sometimes I could hear everything, and sometimes I couldn't hear anything. I didn't know how to trigger it or how to stop it when it started. But, it didn't take mindreading to tell that the detective didn't believe anything I had to say. It was frustrating. I _was_ telling him the truth, but I could tell he thought I was involved in the planning of the shooting. Right then it hit me. _Was he right? Could I have stopped all this?_ _Was Robert trying to tell me his plans?_ I thought back to yesterday, to my encounter with Robert in the hall. I had walked away from Robert because I was embarrassed to talk to him. He was flirting with me, and, though a part of me liked it, it also made me uncomfortable. Even after I walked away from Robert, he called out to me. I told him I would stay away from the quad but I didn't ask why. I didn't even finish the conversation with him. I didn't say goodbye; I just turned and walked away. _Was he trying to tell me? Did he want to confide in someone? Why was I so quick to stop the conversation?_

Detective Nixon's voice came back into focus. He was telling me that I was brave, but he was curious to understand why I would help girls who were known to be mean to me, and how I knew that Trevor wouldn't just shoot me.

"Oh my God, I can't believe you think that just because Joanne and her friends were mean to me that I would want them killed," I blurted out, not meaning to say the words that escaped my mouth.

"Erika, I never said that." Detective Nixon looked at me, his eyes judging my every movement, my every emotion.

"Yeah, but that's what you mean, isn't it? I didn't know Trevor wouldn't shoot me. I didn't think about that. I just ran towards the cheerleaders to help and before I knew it, I was standing in front of Trevor."

"Then why did Robert command Trevor not to shoot you?" a younger police officer who was seated to my right asked accusingly.

"He didn't command him, he asked him," I replied angrily, my voice coming out louder than I expected.

Detective Nixon glared at the other officer, telling him with his eyes to keep quiet. It was clear that Detective Nixon was the boss in that room. It was also clear that I was a suspect.

"Erika, during our investigation many students told us that Robert left you a message." Detective Nixon flipped the page of the little black notebook in his hands. "What did it mean when Robert asked you to remember what he told you?"

Detective Nixon lifted his eyes from the pages in his hand, focusing them on me.

"Uhhh, I don't know," I answered, surprised and confused. The detective had accomplished what he'd set out to do, catch me off guard. I didn't know anyone except me had heard Robert. Robert was so close to me when he whispered those words.

The detective studied me cautiously. I knew my answer wasn't very convincing. I was never very good at lying. I knew Detective Nixon didn't buy it either, but to his credit he let it go... at least for the moment.

I had always possessed an uncanny ability to judge someone's character. I knew Mr. Nixon was a decent, caring man, but this still didn't make me trust him and it was obvious he didn't trust me. I could see in his eyes the mistrust he had in people, all people; everyone was guilty until proven innocent. I recognized this trait because it was one that I myself possessed.

I opened my mouth to explain what Robert meant, but I couldn't bring myself to tell the story of the crazy psychotic guy and the stupid giggly school girl. It all sounded so silly. I was so foolish; that whole day I couldn't wait to continue my conversation with Robert. I'd wanted to be near him, with him. _What did he want me to remember? That he thought I was beautiful, or that he was my knight in shining armor because he tried to protect me by telling me to stay away from the quad? What was wrong with him? What was wrong with me? Why the hell would I feel all giggly over the fact that some stupid boy said I was pretty? What type of person starts liking someone who does something like this?_ My thoughts of self-loathing were interrupted.

"Another thing I am trying to understand, Erika, is how you held Trevor to the ground. He must outweigh you by 100 pounds." Detective Nixon asked the question like it wasn't a big deal, but I knew to him it was.

"I don't know. Adrenaline, I guess!" It was the only answer that made sense.

The officers glanced at each other. It was obvious they did not believe me, but I had no other explanation.

"I don't know how I did it, I just did!" I shouted.

I was getting tired of defending myself. Trevor was tall, yes, and it's true he outweighed me by like a hundred pounds, but it had been easy for me to restrain him. I couldn't explain it because I didn't understand it myself. What else could it have been but adrenaline?

A doctor entered my room, interrupting the awkwardness my yelling had created. The doctor appeared to be of Indian descent and had a slight accent as he spoke.

"Gentlemen, please, let's call it a day. I need to examine Ms. Martin."

I was relieved that my interrogation was halted and smiled at the doctor to show my appreciation.

"Erika, we will have to talk to you again soon. If there is anything you want to talk about or anything you remember, please call night or day." Mr. Nixon reached into his wallet and handed me his business card.

The doctor waited until all the officers left the room before introducing himself.

"Hi Erika, my name is Dr. Nanjit. How are you feeling today?"

Dr. Nanjit wore a long white doctor's coat with his name embroidered on the top-left corner. The white coat shone brightly against his brown skin.

"I'm okay, I guess."

"Erika, I am going to ask you some questions that may seem a little strange. It is imperative that you answer them as honestly as possible. Can you do that for me?"

"Okay," I agreed reluctantly. After talking with the police I was exhausted, and I had no desire to answer more questions.

"Erika, is it true that you have a birthmark on your neck shaped like a diamond?"

"Yes." I rubbed my forehead, wondering why it mattered.

"And Erika, do you ever feel like you hear voices in your head?"

"What? Are you a psychiatrist?" I sat up straight, now wondering if I was being assessed for mental problems.

"No Erika, I am not a psychiatrist, but it is a very important question."

Anxiety rippled through my body. I knew if I told the truth people would think I was crazy, but I wanted so badly to tell someone. It had been almost 10 years since I spoke to anyone about the voices, ten years of suffering in silence.

"Well I—I sometimes, sometimes I think I can hear people talking when they're not. But when there are a lot of people, it usually just sounds like a lot of noise." I gritted my teeth. I was trying to tell the doctor that I could hear people's thoughts, but I couldn't bring myself to say the words.

"I see, and when you hear these people talking, is it because you feel like you can hear what they are thinking? That you can maybe read their minds?"

Oh my God, how does he know that?

"Doctor Nanjit, are you trying to figure out if I'm crazy? I know it's never a good idea to admit you hear voices." I stared at the doctor, trying to figure out how he was so close to uncovering my secret.

"Erika, I don't think you're crazy. I think you may be... well, you may be gifted. I think I can help you. I'd like you to answer me honestly, please."

"I... I know this sounds silly, but I know I can hear people's thoughts. That's why I like to be alone. I don't want to hear them; some things.... well... some things are meant to be private. It doesn't happen all the time though, but it's been happening a lot more again, ever since... well, ever since the shooting."

It was a relief to finally tell someone. Even if I was crazy, it felt good to speak about it.

Doctor Nanjit smiled at me reassuringly, telling me with his eyes that he was glad I'd told him the truth. "And Erika, do you ever do things you can't explain, or get from one place to another without knowing how you got there?"

It was weird that this doctor seemed to know so much about me. Maybe I had a condition I didn't know about. Maybe he could finally have answers for me. Maybe he could stop the voices, stop the confusion. I continued to be honest, desiring an explanation.

"I call those my blackout times. Sometimes I'll be in one place then the next second I'm somewhere else. Doctor Nanjit, do you know what's wrong with me?"

"Erika, I don't think anything is wrong with you. I think you are a very special girl."

I was confused and disappointed. I wasn't gifted or special. I wanted to know what was wrong with me. But before I could ask the doctor why I was afflicted with voices and blackouts, a tall doctor with blond hair walked in.

"Dr. Nanjit!" the man exclaimed as he walked into my room patting Dr. Nanjit on the shoulder. He shook his hand. "Are you a friend of my new hero patient?"

"No Dr. Neal, just visiting Riverton's newest celebrity to give my thanks. I have kids at Riverton, and thanks to Erika they came home safe."

I wondered why Dr. Nanjit lied. I was confused; I'd thought he was my doctor, but obviously I was wrong. Dr. Neal was my doctor. I wondered if Dr. Nanjit even had kids at Riverton.

"Erika," Dr. Nanjit said, his hand extended to shake mine. "Thank you. It was my sincerest pleasure to meet you."

If Dr. Nanjit wasn't my doctor, who was he, and why was he asking me all these questions?

I took his extended hand in mine and noticed that on the cuff of his sleeve he had a diamond symbol with an eye on each side. He seemed to smile with satisfaction when he saw me notice the symbol on his sleeve. My eyes followed him in confusion as I watched him walk away from my room.

# Chapter 4

STRANGERS

The rest of the day I stayed in bed. Valerie and I talked a little. We became friendly, but most of the time I slept. My mom came to visit shortly after lunch. When Valerie saw her she decided to take a walk to give us some privacy.

"Erika," my mom said as she stood at the foot of my bed. Her voice quivered and her normally smooth brow wrinkled as she searched for her words.

"I'm sorry for the way I reacted yesterday. You know, when the school called, they didn't tell me there was a shooting. I was just told that you were involved in some trouble and you were being held for observation. When I got to the hospital I was only told that you were involved in a scuffle but not to worry because you weren't hurt. I didn't know... what happened. I guess I misunderstood and thought you caused some trouble at your school. I never would have yelled at you had I known."

"It's okay, Mom, it's not a big deal." I fidgeted with my fingers, picking at the nonexistent dirt under my nails. It was weird seeing my mom so uncomfortable.

"And when Valerie mentioned how you stopped the shooter. The shooting didn't even connect with me. I was upset because I was called out of work; I thought I might get fired. I wasn't thinking. I didn't know what really happened until the doctor explained it all to me yesterday. But then they wouldn't let me go back in your room because I had upset you. I'm so sorry Erika, I really didn't know." My mother's mouth quivered and a sob threatened her voice. She tried hard to hold back her tears but one escaped anyways, trailing down her tired face. She caught it with a crumpled tissue she had hidden in her hand. My mom often didn't pay attention to my words, so I understood when she explained that Valerie's words yesterday went in one ear and out the other. My mom worked two jobs to support us and I felt bad that she was concerned she might get fired. My dad left when I was seven followed by my mom's second husband who was gone right after his son was born when I was nine.

"Mom, it's okay."

"But it's not, Erika. I made you cry. I haven't seen you cry since you were a baby."

"I was just tired, Mom. I'm okay. Really." My voice was the one quivering now.

My mom came over and hugged me. She hadn't done that since I was little. I tried in vain not to cry, but the tears fell anyway.

"I love you, Erika. I don't know what I would have done if anything happened to you." My mom wiped away her tears.

"Nothing happened, Mom. I'm okay."

"I still can't believe you single-handedly stopped the shooting. I am so proud of you." My mom used the crumpled-up tissue to wipe away the remaining traces of emotion as her tone changed to one of celebration and pride.

My mom and I had two firsts that day. One, it was the first time she ever apologized to me, and two, it was the first time she ever said she was proud of me. My mom never showed much emotion, a trait she passed down to me. We weren't the kind of people to say I love you, or to give hugs and kisses, nor were we ever ones for friendly conversation. We not only acted alike, but we looked a little alike as well. I got my dark hair from her, but my pale freckled easily burned skin came from my father. My mom had more of a yellowish tinge to her skin. My eyes were a mix of her brown eyes and my father's green, giving me, as she would say, "cat's eyes", a hazel mix of green, brown, and yellow. One thing I definitely got from her was my stubbornness and tendency to push people away.

After a few minutes of sitting quietly together, I broke the awkward silence.

"Where are Kai and Alyssa?"

Kai was my cute little game-obsessed seven-year-old brother and Alyssa was my perfect straight-A student, class president, older sister. I was... well, I don't know what I was. I wasn't the cute little one and I wasn't the beautiful smart one. I guess I was just the middle one. Middle of the road in every way.

"They're at home. Alyssa's watching Kai. I'm trying to keep him away from, well you know, all this shooting stuff. They both want me to tell you that they can't wait to see you. They are going to come with me to pick you up when you get released."

"Tell them I can't wait to go home."

Our conversation felt awkward, forced. We never talked normally to each other. Our talks usually consisted of, "What's for dinner?", "Clean your room!", and "Watch your brother." This was definitely weird. My mom felt it too, and after my reassurance that it was okay for her to leave she did.

I listened to my mom's footsteps as she walked away down the hall. Her heels made a clicking noise with every step as they touched the cold hard sanitized tile of the hospital floor. I smiled at the fact that my mom always wore heels to make her taller. I listened as the sound of her shoes got fainter and fainter until they were gone _._ I didn't need anyone to look after me; after all, nothing was really wrong with me other than the fact that I was crazy enough to tackle a six-foot giant with a gun.

Mrs. Wong, the principal, was the next visitor. She came to visit me and Valerie. She brought us beautiful white flowers and two big fluffy teddy bears. Mrs. Wong was a plump short lady, hair always in a tight bun, clothes always pressed and neat, always serious and never the type to show any emotion. We got to know each other well during my time at Riverton High. She saw me as the smart student who wouldn't apply herself. A student with unlimited potential, as she would say. We spent hours together with her trying to unlock that potential through lectures and speeches about how someone with such high test and IQ scores should be doing so much better in her classes.

Today, I stared at a different Mrs. Wong. She was slightly disheveled—dark black hairs stuck out from her usually perfect bun, and her pressed white shirt was partially untucked from her long grey skirt. She told me that I was the town hero. She cried as she expressed how proud she was of me.

"Erika, I shudder to think how many more people would have been hurt, had you not intervened. I am so glad you were not injured."

"Me too," I laughed, raising my eyebrows.

After staying for a little bit longer and going on about how amazing it was for such a little girl to be so strong, Mrs. Wong finally wrapped up her visit. I hated being called little. I wasn't that short. I was about five-two and a half, five-three on a good shoe day. I was taller than my mom and about half an inch taller than my sister, but I only weighed about 95 pounds, which I guess made me appear younger and smaller than I was.

"Well, I will let you girls get your rest, and I will see you back at school soon," Mrs. Wong said as she exited our room.

"School?" Valerie whined. "Is she kidding me? Uggggh. I wonder when they'll make us go back. I was hoping we could at least get a month off. After all, we were almost killed."

I had to agree. School was the last thing I wanted to think about. Valerie and I bonded over not wanting to go back to school. We wondered how many people were hurt in the shooting and who they were. Everyone tried to keep the details of the shooting from us. We weren't allowed to watch the news and we were encouraged not to dwell on the past. The psychologist we saw said it was better this way, and that all the details would be given to us when we were ready. Valerie and I weren't immediate best friends, but we became closer as we complained about how unfair it was that everyone was withholding information from us.

I was sad when Valerie went home the next morning. They told me I had to stay another night for observation, but I knew they didn't mean medical observation. I was a suspect and from the constant eyes on me I couldn't help but feel the police wanted me watched.

I had the room all to myself now. I stayed in bed all day watching movies. I didn't bother to take a shower or get cleaned up. Around two pm I started to regret that decision. I looked out my window into the nurse's station across the hall and spotted two men speaking to Nurse Michelle.

One man was in his 40's, handsome, well put together, and wearing a brown suit. He wore glasses and looked very distinguished. The other was a boy that appeared to be a couple years older than me. He was absolutely gorgeous. He was about 5'9", thin, with medium-brown hair, pale clear skin, and long well-manicured sideburns. He wore jeans and a white V-neck that hung down to where he had his thumbs hooked into the pocket of his jeans. He looked like a model from the fifties, a throwback to James Dean. I could see Nurse Michelle blush as she talked to him. He was mesmerizing! I watched as he swayed back and forth on his heels to his toes while flaunting a mischievous grin.

Nurse Michelle was in her late twenties and even though this guy was younger, you could tell she could not ignore just how handsome he was. I couldn't help but stare and wonder who the two strangers were. I was focusing on reading their thoughts when the younger guy looked straight at me. I was mortified. He smiled at me. I wanted to die. Nurse Michelle turned to see what he was looking at. Now all three were looking in my direction. I looked forward as if I were watching TV, but what I really wanted to do was pull the blankets over my head and hide.

Great! Could this be more embarrassing?

Just as I finished that thought, they all started walking my way.

You have to be kidding. Nurse Michelle is not bringing them in here. Oh my God, she is! Why didn't I at least brush my teeth this morning?

I tried frantically to comb my hair with my fingers. I twisted the bottom of my hair and pushed it to one side.

"Erika," Nurse Michelle said as she entered the room, "this is Professor Blithe and Liam Malloy. They would like to speak to you. Would that be okay?"

"I guess." I sat up straight making sure I was completely covered. I wondered if my breath smelled.

It was obvious that Nurse Michelle only let these two guys see me because of the way Liam looked. I was sure he got his way a lot. All other visitors except for Mrs. Wong and my mother had been denied.

"I'm going to be right outside. Remember, buzz if you need me." Nurse Michelle exited the room, but not before giving Liam a final smile.

I looked out the window and watched her running towards a group of huddled nurses, no doubt to talk about the handsome guy who now stood before me.

"Hi Erika," Mr. Blithe said in a thick English accent as he shook my hand. I was surprised by the accent. I didn't expect the stranger in my room to be English. He continued, "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Hi Erika." The young man took his turn shaking my hand. I hated that I was meeting this guy in a hospital gown.

"Ouch, you shocked me!" he exclaimed as a jolt ran through my body when we touched.

I wondered if my hair showed the static electricity that was emanating through me. But that thought was quickly replaced by another. Liam was American. After hearing Mr. Blithe I'd expected that he would be English and speak with an accent as well. I said his name in my head, _Liam Malloy..._ it __ sounded English, maybe Irish _._

"I'm sorry," I said, apologizing for electrocuting the most exquisite man I had ever seen in my life.

He laughed, making his blue eyes glisten, and his smile made a little dimple appear on his right cheek.

"I think she's her," Liam said as he looked at Mr. Blithe.

Mr. Blithe just smiled.

"Who's 'her'? What are you talking about? Are you guys reporters?" I was confused.

"No Erika, we are not reporters, and please excuse my assistant. He's just excited to meet you. You are famous, after all."

"Oh," I said, remembering what had made me international news.

"Erika, is it true that you have a birthmark on your neck shaped like a diamond?" Mr. Blithe rubbed his chin as he spoke.

"What? Why? You are the second person to ask me that question."

"Do you mind if I see it?" Mr. Blithe began to turn down the shades in my room.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand. If you guys aren't reporters, who are you and why are you here?"

"I am a professor at Oxford University, and Liam is my assistant. I study ancient history, and the diamond birthmark is something of particular interest to me."

_People study birthmarks in ancient history?_ I was surprised that the two men in my room weren't there because of the shooting, and were instead there to see my birthmark.

"How do you know about my birthmark?" I was fidgeting more now. I played with my hair, tucking it behind my ears.

"A doctor friend of mine notified me that you have the rare marking of the Diamond."

_The mysterious Doctor Nanjit,_ I thought.

"Do you mind if I take a quick look?" Mr. Blithe placed his own hand on the back of his neck.

"Ohhhh...kay, I guess." I hesitantly leaned forward to make sure I was completely wrapped in my sheets. I twisted and lifted my long uncombed brown hair.

Mr. Blithe walked over and studied my birthmark. Liam asked if he could take a look too. _Why didn't I take a shower this morning?_ I held my breath as Liam walked to stand beside Mr. Blithe. A shiver went down my spine as Liam traced his finger over the diamond-shaped marking on my neck.

I quickly released my hair, surprised by the feeling Liam produced in me.

"It is her. I can't see her past or her future." Liam directed his comment to Mr. Blithe as I gathered myself.

"What are you guys talking about?" The two strangers were beginning to scare me.

"We match," Liam said, lifting the sleeve of his shirt over his well-sculpted bicep to show me a birthmark on his right shoulder, one that was identical to mine. I smiled at the way Liam had to struggle to lift his sleeve up past his bicep, at how amazingly wonderful it was that his plain white t-shirt fit his arms and chest so snugly but hung loosely down to his faded jeans.

My fear immediately dissipated and I couldn't help blushing. "Okay, and what does that mean?" I was trying to be serious and not sound like a giddy school-girl.

"Erika, I know this is going to sound crazy." Liam sat on my bed and looked directly into my eyes.

"You and I..." he started to say, but then stopped mid-sentence and turned to Mr. Blithe. "Mr. Nixon, the lead detective on the case, is coming up the elevator. He's going to place a guard at Erika's door. We don't have much time."

"Erika," Mr. Blithe said, reaching into a satchel type briefcase he was carrying. He pulled out a book that looked to be over a thousand years old. "Erika, we are trusting you with this book. It tells of all our secrets. It is for your eyes only. No one else, especially the police, can see it. Do you understand?" he asked as he handed the book to Liam to hand to me.

"I don't, I don't understand."

"Please Erika, promise us that you will keep the book a secret. It is for your own safety and mine. We will explain it all soon. Just keep the book hidden, read it, and you will start to understand." Liam reached towards me, lifting me up. A chill ran through my body as he gently tucked the book behind my pillow. I breathed in, smelling his cologne, the aromatic scent of firewood and spice; everything about him was captivating.

"Do you promise, Erika?"

How could anyone say "no" to this guy?

"Yes, I promise."

"The detective's going to be here any minute. We must go." Liam rushed to the door, Mr. Blithe following closely behind.

Mr. Nixon opened the door, coming face to face with my visitors. I wondered how Liam had known that Mr. Nixon was approaching.

"Are you relatives of Ms. Martin?" Detective Nixon asked in a stern voice.

"No sir, I am a professor at Oxford University and this is my..."

"How did you get into this room? I gave strict orders that no one was to enter this room other than immediate family," Detective Nixon said, his voice growing louder.

"We apologize, sir, but..." Liam started, only to be interrupted in the same fashion that had quieted Mr. Blithe.

"Nurse, Nurse!" Detective Nixon shouted out the door.

Nurse Michelle came running in.

"I gave you strict orders that no one was to be allowed to see Ms. Martin except immediate family. Why are these men in here?"

"I, I, I'm sorry detective," Nurse Michelle said, starting to explain herself.

"Detective Nixon," I interrupted, "I invited them here. It's not Nurse Michelle's fault."

The nurse looked at me, stunned. Stunned because I lied for her. But I wasn't lying for her, it was for him, for Liam Malloy.

"Erika, these rules are in place for your protection. It is not your place to break them, or Nurse Michelle's to aid you in breaking them." Detective Nixon gave me a disappointed look. I thought if I had a father, that might have been the way he would have looked at me when he disapproved of my actions.

"I'm sorry."

"Me too, sir, I am sorry. It will not happen again." Nurse Michelle played with the ID that hung from her neck as she apologized.

"And for us, I do apologize, dear sir. We did not know this rule was in place. We will be going now." Mr. Blithe moved in front of Liam in a protective maneuver, standing toe to toe with the angry detective blocking the door.

Detective Nixon and the tall police officer that stood by his side moved out of the way.

"I will see you again soon, Erika." Liam gazed at me from the doorway with his shining blue eyes and his lopsided smile.

"Yes Erika, we will be in touch shortly." Mr. Blithe put his hand up to wave as he walked out the door.

I blinked in confusion. Mr. Blithe had the same symbol on his sleeve as Dr. Nanjit; a diamond with two eyes. I was certain now that Dr. Nanjit was the one who had called Mr. Blithe.

Detective Nixon eyed me suspiciously, noticing the confusion on my face as my visitors left the room.

"Erika, this is Officer Cooper. He is assigned to guard your room," Detective Nixon introduced the tall red-haired police officer who had stood quietly by his side the whole time.

"Officer Cooper, please wait outside."

The tall quiet police officer followed Detectives Nixon's orders and left the room without saying a word. I wondered if he could speak.

"Why do I need a guard?" I asked as Detective Nixon pulled up a chair to sit close to my bed.

"Erika, there have been threats made against you. The guard is here to ensure your safety."

"Why would someone threaten me?"

Mr. Nixon explained to me that there were people who believed there was no way a girl of my size could disarm such a large boy. People believed my intervention was staged. There were conspiracy theories circulating about what Robert had meant when he said, "remember what I told you." People were actually convinced that I helped plan and carry out the shooting. I could tell that the jury was still out on what Mr. Nixon thought.

"Erika, I want you to know this is serious. I need you to tell me what the message meant. The one Robert gave you before he committed suicide."

"I don't know what he meant. He was crazy! I don't understand why anyone would think I was involved."

I still couldn't bring myself to reveal the meaning of Robert's message, because I would have had to believe what he said. I would have had to believe that someone could say I was beautiful.

"What has Trevor said? He told you I wasn't involved, right?" I hoped Trevor would tell the truth.

"Mr. Drake refuses to answer any questions on the advice of his attorney. He is pleading the fifth. Erika, if you have anything to tell me, you have to tell me now, or I will not be able to help you."

I felt attacked; I'd done nothing wrong and was being falsely accused of a horrific crime just because I wanted to help.

"Detective Nixon, I swear I was not involved in the shooting."

"Will you take a polygraph to prove your innocence?"

"Yes! Yes, of course I will."

"Well you may just have to. Erika, when you are discharged tomorrow, please stay where you can be contacted. There is no leaving Riverton without my permission. I am sure I will have more questions for you." The detective stood up and exited the room.

I couldn't believe it. I was so pissed off. _I do something good and everyone thinks I have ulterior motives. Has everyone lost their fucking minds? And now to add to all of this craziness, I have some sort of ancient birthmark. What is going on?_

I felt like I was trapped in some sort of nightmare. I grabbed the book the strangers had left for me from behind my pillow. It had an old musty smell to it, but it also had a hint of Liam's cologne. I held the book tight against my chest. _Am I crazy?_ My infatuation with a boy was what landed me here in the first place, and now here I was again getting all giddy over some other guy who was probably just as crazy as Robert. But I couldn't help but feel there was something different about Liam—as if we were connected in some way. It was different than the way Robert had made me feel... still, I refused to let myself think of Liam any longer. I was tired, frustrated, and angry. The last thing I wanted to do was read. I placed the book back behind my pillow.

I wanted to run and scream. Why would anyone think I would ever do anything to hurt people?

My heart started to race again. I tried to calm down, so I wouldn't have one of my blackouts. I slowly breathed in and out, trying to calm myself. I glared out my window at the lights that illuminated the hallway. My head throbbed from the fluorescent lights. I stared at them, wishing they would just turn off... and suddenly everything went silent. I could feel my body pulsating with every beat of my heart, every pump of my lungs. The silence was broken by a big crashing sound. I watched stunned as the hall lights exploded, showering the floor in a beautiful array of illuminating sparks. Officer Cooper drew his weapon and ran into my room.

"Ms. Martin, are you okay?" Officer Cooper was in a panic. He acted as if he were sure we were under attack.

"I'm fine," I replied nervously.

He got on his walkie-talkie and asked for backup to secure the perimeter.

_What just happened? Are we under attack?_ I watched as police covered the halls, running from one end to the next. Officer Cooper never left my door, gun drawn, his knees slightly bent, his eyes, gun, and body scanning from side to side. His feet finally moved approximately 20 minutes later when he came in my room to explain there had been a malfunction in the lights and that everything was okay. I didn't have to worry; I was safe.

I couldn't help but wonder if I had something to do with the explosion. I'd been staring at the lights, wanting them to turn off, when they exploded. _Did I make them shatter? No, that's impossible, there is no way I could have done that—besides, Officer Cooper said there was a malfunction in the lights._ I put the ridiculous notion out of my mind and closed my eyes to sleep.

In my dream, I was still in the hospital. I was wearing a flowing white gown, following a glowing light that shone brighter and brighter. The light was a floating diamond. I followed it, transfixed. It floated out of the hospital window, and still I shadowed it. I stepped out on the hospital ledge and looked down. I was at least ten stories up, but I wasn't scared. The night wind felt good; the breeze brushed against my face, blowing my hair and nightgown back, flowing behind me. Liam, the handsome guy I met earlier in the day, was there, waiting for me on the ledge. He took my hand. A shock ran through my body as he touched me. Together we followed the diamond as it floated past the ledge and hung in the night sky. Liam and I walked off the ledge unafraid, hand in hand. We glided safely to the ground. Liam looked at me and smiled, his eyes twinkling as bright as the diamond we trailed. His smile made me feel at peace. On the ground, we were met by Trevor. He was holding a gun. He stood about five feet from us. He pointed the gun directly at me and pulled the trigger. I watched the bullet slowly come towards me. I caught it, and when I opened my clenched fist, it revealed a hand full of ash. Liam gently put his hand under mine. Bringing it up to his lips, he softly blew the ash from my hand.

I woke up, with a longing and desire to know more about Liam. I laid there wondering about the stranger. The stranger, Liam Malloy, who had just entered my life.

# Chapter 5

SPOTLIGHT

Later that day, I got released from the hospital. My mom, sister, and brother came to pick me up. This was the first time I'd seen my sister and brother in days.

My sister, Alyssa, was barely a year older than me. She was a straight-A student; I was not. She was the smart, pretty child. I... well, I wasn't ugly... my sister and I did look a lot alike; some people even thought we were twins. She was just the prettier version. We both had long brown hair with reddish golden tinges throughout. But while my hair was thin and dull, my sister's was thick, full, and shiny. My skin was pale and washed out, my sister's golden and rosy. While I was skinny, my sister was the perfect weight. When I was younger, my school wanted me to skip a grade because of my test scores— which I guess showed I was smart, but I'd never been like Alyssa, driven to do well at school. I was glad my mom chose to keep me in my grade. Could you imagine how much more I would be compared to my sister if we were in the same grade?

My little brother Kai wore big round glasses that covered most of his small round face and he was super skinny like me. He looked and acted like a young Harry Potter. His intelligence and mischievous ways seemed to always get him into trouble too. I thought as I looked at him, _I hope he gets bigger, or high school is not going to be fun._ Kai wasn't the athletic type either. He loved his video games. He never knew his jerk father, my stepfather, who left us when he was a baby. I wondered how difficult it must have been for a boy being raised by three girls. Did he long for a father? For male companionship and guidance?

"Hey E," Alyssa said as she walked in, jumping on the bed. "Oh my God Erika, there are TV crews everywhere. You are going to be so famous."

"Erika, Erika," my brother squeaked, "can I be on TV too?"

"What are you guys talking about? I don't want to be on TV."

"Erika, we have reporters calling night and day. They are offering us a lot of money for interviews. We can be rich, and you can be famous!" my sister said, jumping up and down.

"I don't want to be famous." I grabbed the blanket and pulled it over my head. "I just want it all to go away."

I was always shy, always quiet. The spotlight was a place I never sought and never felt comfortable in.

"Erika. Come on, stop acting like a baby. You're famous. You should be proud. This can actually open up a lot of opportunities for us. Maybe we can buy a house." My mom's excited voice came through the blanket that I was hoping would be my shield.

I pushed the blankets off, sat up, put my clothes on, and finished packing. We were about to leave when I remembered the book. I reached behind my pillow when no one was looking, pulled it out, and packed it neatly in my duffel bag.

"Mom, have I always had that birthmark on my neck?"

"Yes, you know you have. You were born with it. Why?"

"Does anyone else that you know, like a relative, have the same birthmark?"

"No, Erika. Why all the questions about your birthmark? It's a birthmark, who cares? No one can see it. Your hair covers it."

I wondered how common my birthmark was, and thought about how weird it was to see one identical to mine on Liam Malloy.

"Erika, enough about your birthmark. I want to leave. We still have to go past the hundreds of reporters outside. I want to go before more come." My mom was hurriedly searching the room for any belongings I might leave behind.

Until now, I hadn't thought about the reporters, the rest of the town, the questions they must have, the questions the parents of the dead must have. I didn't want to leave the hospital. Nurse Michelle brought a wheelchair to escort me out. I wanted to walk, but she explained it was hospital policy. I reluctantly sat in the wheelchair. Nurse Michelle pushed me to the elevator then down the same long white hall that just a few days earlier had been filled with the screams and cries of the families destroyed by Trevor and Robert.

Did those families hate me? Did they really believe I could be involved?

As soon as the hospital doors opened, flashes went off instantaneously. People were pushing and yelling out questions. My mom hadn't been exaggerating. There had to be hundreds of reporters out there.

Kai began to cry. My mom picked him up.

Alyssa screamed, "Get back! I swear, if anyone steps on my new shoes..."

We were surrounded. Nurse Michelle could no longer push the wheelchair. I tried to shield my face with my arms. Police and security guards helped to move the crowds back so we could get by.

Reporters yelled. One asked me how it felt to be a hero, another wanted to know if I knew Robert and Trevor well. A third reporter asked me to address the people who felt I was involved. I raised my hands in an X-formation to shield my eyes from the blinding flashes when a microphone was shoved under my arms and in my face. A blonde female reporter yelled over the sea of noise, "How do you feel about knowing that only three people died, and that you probably single-handedly saved dozens?"

The crowd quieted when I spoke, "Three?"

Then the questions started again...

The car was parked just feet from the exit in the loading zone right in front of the hospital, but it seemed to take us hours to get there. We finally got to the car and I got in. I sat in the front, my brother and sister in the back.

Three... That was the first time I'd heard how many people died. Three people...Did I know any of them?

Three... I felt faint.

I put my head against the window. I placed my hands over my ears. I could still hear all the questions. The windows were up and the doors were shut, but I could still hear every single reporter as if they were sitting right beside me.

There was a reporter standing in front of the car. He wouldn't stop taking pictures and he wouldn't get out of the way, even after my mom revved the engine.

My heart accelerated, my temples were pulsating, my head throbbed, and then the noise stopped. It was silent. I stared at the reporter, wanting him to move, wanting to run him over.

"Mom!" Alyssa shouted as the car leapt forward, barely missing the reporter as he jumped and rolled on the black pavement.

"Whoa, I don't know what happened! I must have put my foot on the gas too hard."

"Mom, Mom, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" I placed my hand on my mom's extended arm as she clutched the steering wheel tightly.

"Erika, what are you talking about?" my mom asked, looking at me like I was crazy.

Kai started to cry again. My mom placed her foot on the gas. The car made a screeching sound as we sped out of the hospital parking lot.

"Mom, do you think that the reporter we almost hit is ok?" I strained my neck looking behind us, trying to catch a glimpse of the man I was sure I almost killed.

"He's fine, Erika. I saw him get up in my rearview mirror."

"Serves him right for blocking our car anyways." Alyssa ran her fingers through her hair, flipping it to the other side.

My mom pleaded with my brother, "Kai, please stop crying, please! This is just great. Now we are the focus of the whole world."

"I think it's pretty cool – and anyways, if I remember, so did you when you were talking about buying a new house."

Judging by the lack of response from my mother, I don't think she heard Alyssa's final mutterings.

"I think it's kind of scary," Kai sniffled from his booster seat.

For the rest of the ride I just stared out the window wondering. _Was it me? Did I make the car lurch forward? Did I make the car almost hit the reporter?_ I felt like I was losing my grasp on reality.

# Chapter 6

HOME SWEET HOME

We pulled into our apartment complex and carefully parked in one of our assigned spaces under the carport. It was torture watching my mom park. Ever since she scraped the car on one of the poles that divided the spaces, she always made Alyssa or me get out to signal her in. This time it was my sister who acted as her guide. Right as my mom was putting the final touches on her parking, reporters appeared out of nowhere. Alyssa jumped back in the car, and before we knew it we were surrounded again.

Kai cried as my mom screamed at the reporters to leave us alone. I could feel I was blacking out again; I felt disoriented. I just wanted to get away. I opened the car door and started to run. The next thing I knew I was at Riverton Park, which was about three miles from my home. I was spinning on the merry-go-round. _How did I get here?_ In my spinning blur I could see a figure standing, watching me. I slowed my spinning by placing my foot in the sand until I came to a stop.

"Hey stranger!" A beautiful smiling face greeted me. It was Liam. He was wearing a light beige paperboy hat. He walked over and sat by me on the floor of the merry-go-round.

"You okay?" he asked kindly.

"What are you doing here, are you following me?"

"Well yeah, kind of. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You run pretty fast, you know; it was hard keeping up."

"I ran all the way here?"

"Um, yeeesss. How'd you think you got here?"

"I don't know, sometimes I have these blackouts. The last thing I remember is the crowd of reporters in front of my house."

"Hhhmmm, interesting," Liam said as he looked at me, perplexed.

"Liam, I don't mean to be rude, but why are you following me and what do you want?"

Even though I felt exhilarated and excited to see Liam again, I wanted answers. Who was Liam Malloy? Why was he here and why did I feel the way I felt when I was around him? With all the different ways he made me feel, uncomfortable was not one of them. Liam was a stranger, and I knew my stranger danger alarms should be going off. After all, he was stalking me. But none of the expected feelings of being pursued by a stranger were present.

"It's hard to explain, Erika. Maybe I should let Mr. Blithe explain it to you."

"Liam, I'd like you to explain it to me." I stared into his electric blue eyes, knowing somehow that he held answers to questions that I'd had my whole life.

"Well, have you had a chance to read the book?" Liam looked pensively at me.

"No, I've been a little busy—you know, with all the reporters and the police thinking I'm part of a homicidal trio and all."

"If it means anything to you, Erika, I know you weren't involved. The police will realize it soon too, don't worry."

"Easy for you to say, but you can't be sure of that."

"Well actually, I can. Erika, I know this is going to sound, well... impossible, but I can see the future. We—you and I—have capabilities, powers. I think when you use yours, you refer to them as your blackout times. Erika, you ran here in less than 3 seconds."

It took me a moment to comprehend what Liam was telling me, until I realized that I had done it again, fell for another psychotic guy. What he was saying was impossible! I lived more than 3 miles away, people do not run a mile a second.

"Are you really trying to tell me that I—that we—have super powers?"

"Well... yes, our birthmarks give us these... abilities."

I thought this guy had some reasonable answers to the mysteries in my life. Instead, I am confronted with the fact that I have an uncanny ability to attract freaks.

"Liam, I have to go. Please don't contact me again." I got up to leave, but Liam grabbed my hand gently.

"Erika, what about your strength? How do you explain how strong you are, or the fact that you can read minds?"

I shook my hand free. Liam simply let go. Liam didn't seem dangerous, but then again, neither had Robert. Even though I didn't want to leave I knew I had to. I had to get away, away from another mistake. I was doing it again—falling for another insane person.

Liam screamed after me as I started to run back to my house, "Erika, do yourself a favor and read the book! You're in danger!"

_You're in danger_ were the last words I heard before my vision started to blur. Everything got big, then small, pulsating noise filled my ears, and then... nothing.

The next thing I knew I was standing in front of my apartment stairs. _How did I get here?_ The blackouts were happening more and more. They were always triggered when I was scared or overwhelmed.

I walked up the stairs to our four-bedroom apartment. It was unusual to be able to find a four-bedroom since most apartments only went up to 3, but my mom had searched high and low. After my mom's last relationship ended, our house went into foreclosure, and an apartment was all we could afford. But she was intent on making sure we all had separate rooms. They were small, but separate. She always tried to give us the best. She hated living in an apartment and wanted so badly to be able to buy a house again.

I walked in. I could smell that my mom had been cooking, the familiar aroma of my favorite pot roast filled the house. My mom immediately met me at the door.

"Erika, where have you been? I've been worried sick."

"Mom, she's only been gone for like 15 minutes, calm down," Alyssa shouted from the couch.

"I was only gone for 15 minutes?"

"I guess, or maybe closer to ten. Mom wanted to call the cops after two." Alyssa got up from the couch and rolled her eyes.

Ten minutes. There's no way. Riverton Park is three miles away: three miles there, and three miles back. How was I only gone for ten minutes?

I walked past the living room where Kai's grey and white cat, Schmuggles, slept. At least Schmuggles left me alone. The cat didn't even look up as I walked by; he couldn't care less, which was how I liked things.

As I walked past the kitchen, I could feel the warm heat of the oven permeating through my body and the smell of cloves making my mouth water. It was nice to be home. I walked down the hall, passing Kai's room on the left, and my mom's across from him on the right. My mom's room was filled with flowers and balloons. I wondered why she would put them all in her room if they were for me. I got my answer when I opened my bedroom door. My bedroom, along with Alyssa's, was at the end of the hall. It was filled with balloons, cards, teddy bears... there wasn't any more room for even one single flower. It was obvious that a lot of people believed I was not involved in the shooting. I closed my door, cleared an area off my bed, and laid down, staring up at the ceiling.

My thoughts turned to Liam. I knew it was crazy for me to entertain what he was saying. But things in my life didn't make sense. _Can he see the future? It's not impossible, I can hear people's thoughts._ In the hospital he knew that Detective Nixon was approaching. He also said something that didn't make sense, that he 'couldn't see my past or my future'. What did that mean?

He didn't tell me who he was or what he really wanted, but then again... I didn't really give him a chance. I guess I did that often, leave when I was uncomfortable. I wanted to know more about him. It was easy to say he was crazy or believe that what he was saying was impossible, but I had so many more questions for him.

Why did he seem so familiar? His voice, his face... I knew there was no way I had ever met him before. I definitely would have remembered a guy who looked like that. And the birthmark... what did it all mean? I thought about every inch of his face, how his left cheek dimpled when he smiled, his long brown almost auburn sideburns, and the way he got little wrinkles around his eyes when he spoke intensely.

Why was he saying I was in danger?

I got up and grabbed my duffel bag. I grabbed the fragile book and read the title out loud: "The Four Points." 

# Chapter 7

THE FOUR POINTS

As I turned the delicate pages of the old book, the first page reiterated the book's title, _The Four Points_.

I read about diamonds and their unique place in the story of civilization. I was brought into a world of magic, myth, superstition, legend, and supernatural belief. From the earliest of times, the diamond was well-regarded as a magical intermediary between man and the unseen forces of nature that governed his fate. The diamond's awe-inspiring strength and durability came to signify valor and virility, invincibility and good fortune. Its unearthly light symbolized a higher power and spiritual illumination.

The first diamond was discovered in India. From these early times, the diamond was embedded into the very soul of India, its myths and legends woven into the fabric of Hindu culture. Hindus believed that diamonds were created when lightning bolts struck rocks. Astrologically, diamonds were associated with sacred moonlight. They were worn in battle as a symbol of courage and virtue, to instill the wearer with magical strength, and more practically, to deflect weapon blows. The book included translated passages from a sixth-century A.D. Indian text, called the _Ratna Pariksha_ , it described the protective powers of the diamond in detail, asserting that the presence of a diamond means that dangers will recede, and that the diamond will protect against serpents, fire, poison, sickness, thieves, floods, and evil spirits.

It is said that in India, where the first known diamonds were discovered, a great evil fell upon the Hindu people. A cave of diamonds was discovered, diamonds so powerful they gave their holder the power to heal the sick and wounded; to read other's minds and take control of their actions; they gave the power of sight, to see into the future; and the power to control earth, wind, rain, and fire. This legend told of the good Hindu people that guarded this cave. They knew that if the diamonds fell into the wrong hands, evil would befall their lands. One day two strangers named Erebus and Akeldama arrived to the Hindu land after hearing stories about the secret cave of diamonds. The young Hindu queen, Adhira, fell in love with Erebus. She betrayed her husband and her people. She was seduced by the strange visitor, misled by the man whom she thought she loved. He tricked the queen into showing him the location of the secret cave. When the queen showed Erebus and Akeldama the cave of diamonds, they used the diamonds' powers to kill her and everyone who protected the sacred cave. Only four people escaped from the slaughter. These four were shamans, spell-makers, magic-men. They created a diamond shape around the two murdering foreigners, casting a spell to trap their souls and powers into the diamond for all eternity. Since the diamonds' powers had been used for evil, some of the diamonds in the cave had turned black, and were said to hold the dark black souls of the strangers. The white diamonds that remained held the powers of good. These diamonds shone brighter than ever, signifying the Hindus' triumph over evil. It is said that every century since, one hundred human Diamonds are born; this number signifies the number of people that guarded the first cave of diamonds. These people all share a common trait; a diamond-shaped birthmark. Out of the hundred born, only four possess the supernatural powers of the diamond. These four chosen ones are called Points. The four people chosen are said to be inherently good and deserving of these powers, people who will never use their powers for evil. These powers are the same powers the original shamans were ordained with after becoming the victors of the battle between good and evil. These four are the chosen gatekeepers of good.

I stopped reading and touched my neck. I could never see my birthmark without looking at my reflection in two mirrors, but I knew it was there. I closed the book. Sitting dumbfounded, I wondered, _could any of this be real?_ I sat there contemplating the things that I was able to do that didn't make sense.

My mom came in with a plate of dinner, giving me a reprieve from my swirling thoughts. I tried to eat, but I didn't have much of an appetite. I lazily laid on my side, playing with the plate in front of me on my bed. My mom came back about a half an hour later to gather my dish.

"Erika," my mom said in the gentlest tone she could muster. She sat down near the foot of my bed and got right down to business. She was always one to get straight to the point. "The parents of the kids that died want to talk to you."

"Please Mom, no. Mom, I can't. I didn't even see what happened to their kids. I don't know what I'm supposed to say to them."

"Erika, I know it's hard, but these people are hurting; they need you to help them. I've also set up some interviews for you. The world is eager to know what happened. They want to hear from the hero of Riverton."

"Mom, seriously, I can't do this! I don't want to do interviews. I will meet with the families, but no interviews. I am not a hero."

"Erika, please... this is also a chance to help me, to help us, your family. This is a very unfortunate situation but it can help us, help get us out of debt and give us a better life. It's your reward for being a hero. People are offering a lot of money to interview you."

My mom didn't say please often. I thought about how hard she worked. How my mom struggled to raise three kids on her own, often working two or three jobs just so we could get by. I didn't want to see her struggle every day. I wanted her to have a good life and not be worried about money all the time.

"Mom, some people think I was in on it, that I helped set up the shooting."

"But you weren't, Erika, so who cares what some ignorant people think? Besides, this is the way you can set those people straight. Erika, you are a hero, it's time you start accepting and believing that."

Just the fact that my mom believed I was a hero was enough for me. I had always felt I was a disappointment to her. It felt good to make her proud.

"Okay Mom, I'll do the interviews after I meet with the families of the people who died first."

It was difficult to close my eyes. Every time I did, I saw Robert's bloodstained face. He even haunted my daydreams. I was scared that the images of him would forever plague me day and night. But I went to sleep that evening and even though thoughts of Robert and the tasks I had before me should have filled my dreams, they didn't. In my dream I was facing a mirror, but it wasn't me in the reflection. It was a gorgeous Indian girl. She looked like she was my age. She was dripping with jewels and wearing a long white flowing nightgown. She had long thick beautiful black hair, and glistening soft olive skin. I touched my face, and the reflection did the same. She was me.

The man behind her shared her same dark olive skin. He looked older, perhaps in his mid-twenties. He wore a well-manicured thin dark beard on his chiseled face, and his green eyes sparkled. I could feel his hot breath as he whispered in my ear, "Adhira, my Diamond in the rough." Slow kisses brushed my neck as his hands caressed my hips. His lips were soft and I yearned for more. He turned me towards him, grabbing both my arms tightly. He kissed my mouth gently, biting my lower lip. He threw me on a beautiful canopy bed surrounded by sheer white silk curtains that looked golden from the candles that brightened the room. He smiled. His white teeth illuminated against his olive skin, and the determination and hunger in his green eyes pierced my soul. He gently laid his body on top of mine. His kisses started at my lips, but then he pulled down my nightgown, moving his mouth to my shoulders. Adhira didn't ask him to stop... _I_ didn't ask him to stop. He sat up, taking his shirt off. I stared at the soft smooth olive skin covering his hard chiseled body as he drew me close to him. I raised my hands, allowing him to pull my nightgown off. My body trembled, but his warmth, his protective touch, told me I would be okay. He stared at me, and both his eyes and his thoughts told me he loved me. He gently laid me back down. I could feel his hard bare chest against my soft breasts. His lips moved slowly from my mouth to my neck, then lower. I was nervous, but still I let him move on. Green eyes smiled up at me as he covered my body with his. I could still feel his lips on mine when I was jolted back to reality by my alarm clock.

It was morning. I sat up, trying to remember more about the dream I'd had. It embarrassed me that I wanted the dream to continue. My body throbbed. I had to take a shower and compose myself. Today was going to be a difficult day. I was scared, but I knew I had to meet with the families of the victims.

I told the families everything. I told them what Robert had meant when he told me to "remember". It was uncomfortable to talk about, but I felt I owed it to them, to reveal everything. The fact that I would never answer the question about what Robert's words meant when he'd whispered, "Remember what I told you," had always cast suspicion on me. And I wanted them to understand that I was in no way involved in the shooting. I started with my encounter with Robert in the hall. I apologized to them for not asking Robert more questions. I cried as I told them about the guilt I felt for not asking why he wanted me to stay away from the quad, and the guilt I felt for starting to like him. I was happy to discover that none of the victims' families blamed me.

It was the first time I had told anyone the whole story. It felt good to talk about it, and I felt that the families of the victims probably helped me more than I helped them.

I learned the names of the people that died: Teresa Thompson, a freshman and an avid runner; Justin Rodriguez, a sophomore and a science scholar; and the dance teacher Miss Courtney Kline, who had dreamed of opening her own dance studio for kids.

The next couple of days were filled with interview after interview, picture after picture. It was always the same questions: "Why did I put myself between Trevor and the other students? What made me so brave? For someone so little, how was I so strong?"

Every time I gave the same answers: "It was instinct, I didn't think I was brave, and it was adrenaline that made me strong."

But... the one question I would never answer in public was, "What did Robert mean when he told you to remember?"

My answer was always, "I don't know."

That was just for me and the victims' families to know, my embarrassing secret from the prying world.

The police and Detective Nixon eventually seemed to accept my answers. Trevor's confession that he and Robert conspired alone also helped convince the police, and after a week of investigations and interrogations they closed the case.

Trevor was in jail, where it appeared he would spend the rest of his life. He was being tried as an adult.

After all of my interviews were finally over, the world seemed to move on to the next tragic story. But I, along with everyone else in Riverton, was still left with the question, "Why?"

No one had the answers, not even Trevor. I certainly didn't, but life moved on and it was time to return to school, time to return to Riverton High. I dreaded the day Riverton High was going to re-open. But... that day came sooner than I wanted. It was a rainy, cold, miserable day— perfect for the occasion. _I wish they would have just bulldozed the whole place._

# Chapter 8

REALLY, BACK TO SCHOOL

Alyssa drove us to school. I stared at the streaks of rain that flowed down my window. I gazed at the blurred scenery as my sister sped down the road. As we drove, I couldn't help but think of Liam Malloy. I hadn't heard from him in days. _Where was he?_ I tried to tell myself that his disappearance was for the best, and that everything he was trying to convince me of wasn't real. But a part of me wished he were normal, that I was normal, and that we could be together. Camera crews flooded the parking lot as we drove in. I wished my sister's Toyota Corolla had tinted windows.

One reporter got a glimpse of me and shouted, "It's her, it's Erika Martin!"

When we parked we were immediately swarmed.

Great, not again. I'd hoped I had been forgotten. I did enough interviews, wasn't the world tired of me? I was.

I put my hood up and looked at Alyssa.

"Pllleeeassse Alyssa, let's just go home."

At that moment, there was a knock on my window. Mrs. Wong stood there holding a large black umbrella. She and a group of police officers were pushing the reporters back. Alyssa got out of the car, came around to my side, and opened the car door.

"Come on E, you can do this."

"Erika, we will escort you in, you'll be okay." Mrs. Wong waved her fingers towards herself like one would gesture at a baby who was learning to walk to come to them.

When I placed my right foot out of the car, the clicking and flashing of cameras exploded. As I stood up, the noise grew louder and louder. All the shouts, all the questions... it was deafening. My sister scooped her arm through mine.

"Come on sis, we got this!"

We walked under the umbrella with Mrs. Wong, me in the middle. My sister and Mrs. Wong were getting wet as we all struggled to stay under the shelter of the umbrella. Four police officers escorted us—one in front, one in back, and one to each side of us. I thought it was strange that the police officers made a diamond shape around us as we walked in the direction of the school.

I thought back to the book. _If the diamond thing is real, why can't the diamond shape the officers made stop the reporters from asking stupid questions?_

The stupidest one penetrated their barrier. "Erika, how does it feel to be back at Riverton High?"

I kept my head down. I wanted to say, "How do you think it fucking feels, you freaking idiot?"

I wanted to scream, I was so angry my blood boiled. _Why, why would they make us come back? I hate this place, I hate it!_

I was going to hyperventilate.

"Erika, are you okay?" Alyssa asked as we walked through the gates guarded by police. The gates were the invisible line, the no-reporter zone.

As we walked into the school, my heart accelerated, my head hurt, and I became dizzy. I couldn't make the voices stop. I heard so many voices: "It's her. Do you think she did it?"; "How sad, why won't people leave her alone?"; and "I wonder if she'll be my friend."

So many thoughts, so much noise.

"I can't, I can't do this, I can't breathe." I sat down on the cold concrete floor.

My sister and Mrs. Wong started to panic as they struggled to lift me up; it was chaos. Reporters piled into the school. They were trying to take pictures. The police officers tried to restore order by pushing all the reporters back and locking the gates.

"Hey, you can't lock us out," students screamed as they pulled on the bars that closed off the school. Mrs. Wong held the umbrella over my head.

Reporters stuck their cameras through the spaces of the bars, and I heard clicking noises, screams, questions, and laughter. I just wanted it all to stop! I looked at the reporters as I sat on the floor, rocking back and forth with my hands covering my head.

"Just go away, just go away! Stop! Stop! Stop!" I screamed out loud.

I tried, but I couldn't stop all the voices. I pounded my fist on the ground, and as I looked down, I saw an indent in the concrete. My fist had left an impression in the hard ground. I watched as a crack started to split the ground and make its way to the closed gate where the screaming reporters and the annoying students stood.

I wished they would all just go away. I could feel another blackout coming on... then everything went silent. I looked at the bars that caged me into the place I'd never wanted to come back to. They started to bend. I continued to stare until I felt two strong arms lift me in the air. I looked down at the pavement as it bounced underneath me. I looked at the dark blue uniform and the shiny badge worn by the police officer that held me. I looked over his shoulder to see my sister and Mrs. Wong trailing behind us, then up to a pair of dark sunglasses.

"Erika, you have to get your powers under control. Try to calm down please, people can't know about you. Breathe, Erika, breathe."

I stared at him in disbelief. "Who are you?" I asked, gazing closely at the man who carried me in his arms.

"A friend. I am here to protect you," the officer said just before he swung the door open to the nurse's office.

"Should I call for an ambulance?" The nurse was staring at us, looking petrified.

"No," the officer said as he sat me down on the bed. "Erika has given me the name and number of her doctor. I will call him. I think she just needs rest. Erika, will you be okay?" The officer took off his sunglasses, searching for an answer in my eyes.

Staring at him, I thought he looked young to be a police officer, and I wondered if he really was. _What did he mean when he told me I had to get my powers under control? Hey, wait a second, I never gave him the number of my doctor._

"I think so, but I didn't give you..."

He interrupted me as he took my hand. On the cuff of his sleeve was the same symbol as the one on the doctor in the hospital and Mr. Blithe: a diamond with an eye on each side. I held his hand, staring at the mark.

"Erika, I will be here if you need anything. I have been assigned to your school; I'll be watching you." The officer then left the room.

"What happened, Erika?" The nurse knelt beside me.

I didn't answer. I was in my own world. _Who are all these strange people, and what does that symbol mean?_

Mrs. Wong whispered to the nurse as if I couldn't hear her, "I think she may be in the midst of a mental breakdown."

"Ok, I need to assess her. Mrs. Wong, can you please wait outside? Alyssa, you can stay."

I had been in the nurse's office before because of my numerous migraines, so I knew Nurse Conner well. She was a nice older lady who always overdid the makeup. Today she wore bright pink lipstick with light-blue eye shadow. Her face never moved when she talked, which gave away her Botox beauty secret.

"Erika, are you okay?"

Alyssa replied for me, "I think she's freaking out." Alyssa seemed like the one freaking out now. I felt bad for worrying her.

Nurse Conner pulled my hands from my face. "Erika, how are you feeling?"

I was embarrassed. I wanted to hide as I thought about my meltdown in front of the entire school and the reporters who were bound to make this front page news.

"I'm fine, I'm so stupid, I'm sorry."

"Erika it's okay, it's understandable, you've been through a lot."

I stared at Nurse Conner. Her tone was sympathetic, but her face was unable to convey her emotions.

"It's hard for us all to be here, but it will get better."

I wondered if Nurse Conner had to attend to the injured, the dead. What toll must Trevor and Robert's actions have taken on her?

"Will it?" I said as I wondered, would the reporters and the people of Riverton ever forget who I was? Would I ever go back to being me, happy and complacent to be left alone, to be invisible?

"Alyssa, I think Erika just needs a little rest. I'm going to let her lie down for a while. I think it would be best if you went to class now."

"Erika, do you want me to stay?"

"No, I'm fine Alyssa, you can go."

"Okay, but right after first period, I'm going to come back to get you, okay? Promise me you'll wait."

"I promise."

Content, she turned and left the room.

"It's nice that you have your sister here," Nurse Connor said as she covered me up with a thin red blanket she'd grabbed from the cupboard, tucking me in as if I were a baby.

I agreed.

"Erika, just stay here and rest for period one. Do you think you can go to period two, or should I call your mom to get you?"

I didn't want to go to period two. I didn't want to go to school anymore, but I couldn't go home. I couldn't make my mom miss any more work because of me.

"No, I'll be fine, I want to go to period two." I turned towards the wall and shut my eyes.

Sleep was my only partial escape. I still had my dreams, my nightmares, but I would choose them over the constant noise in my head any day.

Alyssa met me at the nurse's office as promised and walked me to my second-period class. It made me feel good to have my sister look after me again. We had grown distant in our high school years. As we walked through the halls, I tried to ignore the gawks, whispers, and stares.

I heard a familiar voice, it was Valerie. "Hey, Erika."

"Why are you talking to her?" Joanne rudely exclaimed.

"Because she saved our lives, Joanne," Valerie retorted.

"I don't care, she's still lame in my book. And who's to say she wasn't in on it? She is such a drama queen; look at the stunt she pulled this morning for attention."

"The only person who is lame and is a drama queen is you, Joanne. And a little advice: if I were you, I'd grab a breath mint," Alyssa said in Joanne's face, not showing a tinge of fear.

It seemed that we had quite an audience, judging from the roar of laughter. Alyssa turned and bowed to the crowd.

Mrs. Wong interrupted before Joanne could make her comeback. "Girls, that's enough! Can we please just get through this day?"

My sister silently continued to walk me to my math class. Alyssa and I were as different as different could be, but I knew I could always count on her.

As we walked, I thought back to when we were in junior high. I had been in seventh grade, my sister in eighth. Valerie and a girl named Meredith sat behind me and my sister on the bus. Meredith, who later became a cheerleader with Joanne and Valerie, grabbed my bag from under my chair with her foot. I turned around and said politely, "I think my backpack slipped under your seat, can I have it back please?" Valerie and Meredith just laughed.

"Why don't you come and get it?" Meredith taunted.

I was scared; I didn't know what to say. But my sister did. Alyssa turned around and said, "Why don't I come get it? And while I'm back there, I'll take your backpack and shove it up your ass. Give my sister her backpack NOW!"

Valerie and Meredith looked stunned.

"It was just a joke. Jeez, calm down Alyssa," Meredith said as she handed Alyssa the bag.

We both turned around without saying a word. We just rode to the bus stop in silence. I always regretted that I didn't thank her for sticking up for me that day.

"Erika, where does your mind go? You've been wandering off so much lately," Alyssa said, her voice piercing through my daydream.

"I don't know; I didn't notice I did."

Alyssa wanted to pick me up after each of my classes. I had to reassure her numerous times that I would be fine until she relented and agreed to meet me at lunch.

I walked into my second-period class expecting to see the uninviting stare of Ms. Cunningham, but instead I was met by the pleasant smile of an attractive young substitute. I read the name on the chalkboard as I took my seat, Miss Barnett. Miss Barnett announced that she would be our substitute for the next two weeks.

Though Ms. Barnett was more pleasant than Ms. Cunningham, there was no way I could concentrate on math. I couldn't help but think about the weird things happening, like the strange officer who wore the same symbol as Mr. Blithe and Dr. Nanjit. I looked for the symbol on Miss Barnett's sleeve, but it wasn't there. I was sure I was going crazy.
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# Chapter 9

SCHOOL CEMETERY

My third-period class was situated on the other side of the school. My hopes of a quiet walk were shattered when I had to endure being called a fame whore and a drama queen. I had to listen to comments about how I planned the shooting so I could be famous, so I could be popular, so I could be rich. It was difficult for me to discern whether the remarks were spoken out loud or if my mind was penetrating the private thoughts of others. Every now and then I would look up from my downward gaze to see groups of students huddled together whispering. I chose to keep my head down for the rest of my walk until I arrived at the outdoor walkway, where jasmine flowers and bougainvillea covered the arches that peered into the quad.

The rain had stopped, and the sun had just started to shine through the dissipating cloudy sky. The air was infused with the smell of jasmine and rain. The awe-inspiring beams of light hitting the ground would have been beautiful had they not been beaming on an unholy place. The grass that once surrounded the quad was no longer there. It was now covered by cement, a memorial mounted in the middle of the quad where three people had lost their lives. The school tried to make the quad look different with fresh paint and new tables, but they couldn't hide its treacherous past. It would never be forgotten; I would never forget. How could I forget that the first boy I liked killed three people and shot himself inches from my face, turning me into an unwanted celebrity, a household name? Erika Martin—forever known to some as the girl who saved Riverton, to others as the girl who got away with murder.

As I stood there staring at the memorial, the catalyst for my new life, I gave in to the what-ifs that plagued my mind. What if I had asked Robert why he wanted me to stay away from the quad? Could I have prevented all of this? I felt a hand on my shoulder and jumped as the figure came up from behind me. As I turned around, my eyes met those of a man who used to emanate a wondrous glow. I waited for that energy to appear again, but it never did.

"Erika, I didn't mean to startle you." Mr. Lapinsky stood next to me sharing the scenery that lay before us. We allowed a few minutes of silence between us before he spoke again. "It's not good to dwell on the past. Come, let's get to class. I'll walk with you, if that's okay?"

My smile was my silent answer. Mr. Lapinsky smiled back. It was obvious that it took energy for both of us to make our mouths move into an upturned U shape. We walked silently together.

Mr. Lapinsky taught his class, but it was different... he was different. That charismatic teacher, the promise of a fun class... both were gone. He had been replaced by a man who was much like me, a man trying to make it through each day.

The loudspeaker interrupted Mr. Lapinsky. "Erika Martin, please report to Mrs. Wong's office. Erika Martin, please report to Mrs. Wong's office."

"I guess you're wanted, Erika." Mr. Lapinsky was smiling as he looked sympathetically into my eyes.

"Murderer!" someone yelled as I walked out.

I heard Mr. Lapinsky screaming at the class, challenging the person who made the remark to show himself. I walked away. I didn't need to hear any more.

I knocked on Mrs. Wong's door.

"Come in," her voice commanded.

When I opened the door I was surprised to be greeted by Liam and Mr. Blithe. I had intentionally been blocking Liam from my brain, but as I looked at him I realized that was impossible. Excitement filled every inch of my body. I blushed as our eyes made contact. I was trying to be cautious, but I knew it was useless. I didn't trust my judgment. I had been wrong about Robert, was I wrong to feel the way I did about the handsome young man that stood before me now? I knew he believed in fairy tales and magic, but... was he crazy? Was he dangerous? He intrigued and scared me at the same time.

"Erika, so nice to see you again." Mr. Blithe shook my hand.

"Erika." Liam reached his hand out to take mine. "You shocked me... again," he laughed, looking into my eyes as I recovered from the sudden prick of static electricity.

"Ms. Wong, do you mind letting us talk to Erika alone?" Mr. Blithe was already ushering Mrs. Wong to the door.

In agreement, Mrs. Wong exited her office. Mr. Blithe closed the door behind her.

"How did you guys get in here?" I was happy to see Liam again, but I knew the police and administrators at the school would not grant any stranger access to the famous Erika Martin.

"Your principal thinks Mr. Blithe is your shrink. Seems as though they feel you may be a little crazy." Liam stood there with his boyish grin, trying to pull me into his banter.

"Oh, is that so," was all I could come up with to say.

"Don't get mad at me, I don't think you're crazy." Liam had his signature lopsided smile on as he stood in the same position he was in when I first saw him, thumbs securely tucked into the front pockets of his jeans.

"Erika, I was phoned about the incident today," Mr. Blithe said, interrupting my first attempt at flirting. For a second I had forgotten that Mr. Blithe was in the room with us.

"That's right, the strange police officer— you're who he meant he was going to call."

"It looks like your capabilities are getting stronger."

"I'm sorry Mr. Blithe, but like I told Liam in the park, I don't have capabilities."

"What about you bending the bars today, or cracking the cement?" Liam took a step closer to me as I took a step back.

"That... that wasn't real."

"Yes Erika, it was real." Liam took another step, closing the gap I had made between us.

_I had thought it was all in my mind. How did he know about that?_ Mr. Blithe interrupted my thoughts of confusion. "Erika, have you read the book?"

"I've read some of it, but I've been busy."

"Yes, I know you've been busy. I've seen the interviews and I am glad the police have dropped their investigation of you."

"See, I told you they would," Liam added. He was as adorable as ever.

Mr. Blithe was whispering now. "Erika, it is imperative that you read the book. We think you may be what is called a Point, The Western Point, more precisely The Reader. It would also be best if you stop giving interviews, for your own safety."

"What do you mean, my safety? Mr. Blithe, are you threatening me?"

"No Erika, not us. That birthmark you have, the one we share— it makes us unique, but it also puts us in danger. Your powers put you in danger," Liam said, pleading with me to listen.

"I don't have powers; I wish you both would stop saying that."

"Erika, don't you wonder why it was so easy for you to disarm and hold down a 200 pound, six-foot gunman?" Liam sounded frustrated. "We have so much to tell you! So much to teach you..." He started to elaborate, but was interrupted by Mr. Blithe.

"Erika, this is my telephone number. We can't talk here." Mr. Blithe handed me his card. "It is imperative that we meet, right away. Your life is in danger—not by us, but by others who may have started to notice your uniqueness. We need to set up a meeting alone, a time when we can talk away from prying ears."

"I want to know why you keep telling me I'm in danger. You guys are scaring me."

"Erika, we would never hurt you. We are here to protect you, to teach you." Liam lifted the sleeve of his shirt to show me his birthmark again. "Whether or not you admit it to yourself, I know you feel our connection. I know in your heart you know the truth and know that all Mr. Blithe and I want to do is help you."

Liam was right. I did feel a connection. And though the things Liam and Mr. Blithe were telling me scared me, for some reason I was not scared of them. I kept trying to fight my instincts, reminding myself that I had been wrong about Robert, telling myself to not trust my intuition... but I needed to know more.

"I have to think about all of this. I promise I'll read more of the book and contact you soon. I have to go now. I'm supposed to meet my sister for lunch." I didn't want to leave Liam, but I needed time to think. I opened the door and rushed out.

I ran to where Alyssa was waiting. She looked furious.

"Erika, I was worried sick."

"Okay, take it easy, I'm just a few minutes late."

"I told her to chill out," her friend Stephanie said, trying to defend me.

I spent the next ten minutes convincing Alyssa to give me the keys to her car so I could take a nap. I told her I was exhausted, which was true, but really what I wanted was a quiet place to sit and read more of the ancient book. It was difficult convincing my class president sister to aid me in ditching the rest of my classes, but finally, after pleading my case over and over, she relented. Alyssa gave me her keys and I made my way to the parking lot. I locked myself in the car, thanked God the reporters were gone, and reclined my seat all the way back so no one could see me. I laid there thinking about today's events. I carefully removed the delicate book from my bag. I had brought it with me out of concern; my mom had a tendency to snoop. Gently I laid it on my lap. It felt so fragile. I was worried I would damage it.

I unwrapped the ribbon from the old book and began rereading the paragraph where I had left off.

I reread the part about the hundred people who were called Diamonds, born every century all sharing a common trait, a diamond-shaped birthmark, my birthmark. The Diamonds were supposed to be the warriors and protectors of our realm. I read again about the mystical powers that were said to be passed down to four Diamonds every century, people who were inherently good and deserving of these powers, people who would never use their powers for evil. I read on about the powers of the rarest Diamonds, The Four Points. They were described to possess the powers of superhuman strength, agility, and speed. Each Point also had his or her own special power:

  1. The Healer: can heal the sick or wounded, and oneself. Cannot heal the dead.
  2. The Reader: can read minds and influence others' actions through mind control. 
  3. The Seer: sees the future and the past.
  4. The Naturalist: controls nature, influences the elements.

I found it interesting that these four individuals were usually born in four different hemispheres: The North, South, East, and West. Together they created a powerful team. They were said to be the only ones who could stop evil and restore Earth's balance.

I went on to read more about who the Diamonds were. In the book, Diamonds were described as highly intelligent. They had been noted to be among the world's elite leaders. Some of the Four Points had been rumored to be Presidents, Nobel Peace Prize winners, scientists, and other important figures in society.

I closed the book. This was crazy. Even if Diamonds and Points did exist, there was no way that I could be a Diamond or a Point. I could never be the President or a Nobel Peace Prize winner; who were they kidding? This was nonsense. But I couldn't bring myself to stop reading. A part of me was starting to believe, and I wanted to know more. I opened the book again.

I read on about what happened if a Point died. If a Point was killed, their powers would be transferred to another Diamond. The one hundred Diamonds were backups for the Points. However, if a Point perished at the hands of a Collector, the Collector absorbed the Point's powers and strengths. I wanted to know what a Collector meant in this context, so I looked it up in the glossary.

Collector: A thief, an evil soul who hunts Diamonds to get rid of Earth's protectors, to wipe good from the Earth and create an imbalance of good and evil.

Were these Collectors the reason Liam and Mr. Blithe kept saying I was in danger? Could I be being hunted because I was a Diamond, and even maybe a Point? There were things, things that I had done in the past, that didn't make sense. Times that I was stronger than I should have been... times I heard things when I shouldn't have... times that I couldn't explain how I got from one place to another. I was trying to remember all the different incidents, all the times I'd thought maybe... maybe I was crazy... perhaps I was actually schizophrenic.

I was startled by my sister knocking on the window. I had forgotten she was a senior and didn't have a last-period class. I had been in the car for an hour, and it felt like minutes. I unlocked the door and put the book away.

"Glad to see your reading, Erika."

"What? Oh yeah, reading."

"Erika, are you sure you're okay?"

"Alyssa, I'm fine, stop worrying about me!" I was frustrated. I was sick of that question, and it showed.

"Jeez, I was just asking, Erika."

# Chapter 10

REAL OR FICTION

Finally, the weekend. It was early morning. I listened to the rain as it danced upon the roof. I laid there in bed listening to the blissful calming pitter patter. The rain always had a way of relaxing my mind.

I got up and got dressed. I tried to remember more of my dream from last night. I tried to decipher if any of it could be real. The dream was a variation of the same dream I'd had in the hospital on the first night I met Liam.

I was transported back to the hospital. Wearing a white flowing nightgown, I once again stepped out onto the hospital ledge, but Liam was not there to meet me this time. I was still ten stories up, following the same diamond that floated in the night sky like it had before. I walked off the ledge unafraid, feeling the cold brisk air whip gently at my face. Alone this time, I glided safely to the ground. I was met by Trevor, holding his gun. Pointing it steadily at me, he pulled the trigger. I watched the bullet slowly come toward me, then soft hands created electricity through my body as they gently moved me out of the way. The bullet struck Liam in the chest. I observed in horror, but my misery was short-lived as I watched the bullet bounce off of Liam. My dream ended as Liam turned to me, his gaze piercing my soul "Erika, my Diamond, wake up! You are in grave danger."

My thoughts about Liam and my dream were interrupted when Alyssa walked into my room. "Hey Erika, do you have my green army jacket?"

"No, it's too big on me. Why would I have it?"

"Uggghhh! I can't find it anywhere. I'm so annoyed. I have a date with Anthony and it's freakin raining! Now I have to figure out a whole new outfit. I planned on wearing this one all week." Alyssa waved her hands over her body, showing me her cute shorts and crop top.

Anthony was the star of the football team, and this was going to be Anthony and Alyssa's first date. I knew she was nervous. I was happy for Alyssa; Anthony was one of the cutest and smartest guys in school.

"Where are you guys going?"

"We were supposed to go paddleboat in the river, but now I think we're just gonna go bowling or something."

"Why don't you wear your skinny jeans with that beige top you wore last week? That looked good."

"Erika, I just wore that last week. Don't you know anything about fashion? You have to wait at least a month before you recycle the same exact outfit."

I didn't know anything about fashion. I didn't care. My sister, on the other hand, was obsessed. Obsessed with purses, clothes, shoes. She wrote down her daily outfits on a little notepad just so she could remember not to wear the same outfit too close together and to remind herself of the pairings. I, on the other hand, didn't even own a purse.

"Oh." I tried not to roll my eyes, but I couldn't help it.

"What about my skinny jeans with this top?" Alyssa suggested as she pulled one of my only stylish shirts from my closet.

It didn't matter what Alyssa wore; she always looked good in anything.

"I... I think it'll look good."

"Me too. That's what I'll wear. I can borrow it, right?" But before I could answer, she was heading out the door. She turned one last time to give me some sisterly guidance. "Erika, just a little fashion advice, you should really change those pants. They make you look way too skinny."

I didn't bother changing. I wasn't going anywhere, plus everything made me look too skinny.

My mom took Kai to a birthday party which she begged me to go to; she didn't want me staying home alone, but for some reason a seven-year-old's birthday party was not appealing to me—huh, go figure. After I reassured my mother that I would be fine, she left with Kai. My sister went on her date with Anthony, so by eleven a.m. I had the place all to myself. As I walked around our empty apartment, I settled in on the couch. I turned on the TV, changing through the channels. Nothing was on. I played on my phone, watching videos and reading stories. I was so bored that I actually wished I had a Facebook or Instagram page just so I could pore through the numerous pictures and stories people posted every second of every day. I knew what I was doing; I was trying to keep my mind off Liam. What I really wanted to do was call him. I had Mr. Blithe's number and it was tempting, but I needed today for myself, time to process everything that had happened. I went to my room and picked up the ancient book that awaited me on my nightstand. I brought it out to the living room. As I held the delicate book, I thought about Liam, the Points, the Diamonds, and the so-called powers I was supposed to possess.

_Okay, well, if this stuff is real I'm supposed to have superhuman strength. Hmmmm... what can I pick up?_ I scanned the room. We had nothing heavy to pick up. _The couch it is_. I bent down and grabbed the left corner of the couch. I lifted it. I put it down. _Of course I can lift the corner of the couch, Kai could probably do that._ I knew I wasn't giving it my all. I wasn't actually trying to pick up the whole couch. I couldn't believe I was giving into any of this. Mr. Blithe probably had a hidden camera in here right now and was laughing at me. "This is so stupid," I said out loud as I plopped down on the couch, hanging my legs over the cat-scratched arm. I laid there in the dark quiet of the living room, laying back listening to the never-ending rain. Isn't there a song called _It never rains in Southern California_? Because the rain as of late seemed to be endless.

I laid there thinking about things that I did that weren't exactly normal. I remembered a game I used to play with my sister when we were little. Alyssa and I shared a room and a big queen-sized bed. We had an extra room so we could have had our own bedrooms if we wanted, but my sister and I chose to share.

I would start the game by saying, "Alyssa, think of something in the room and I will tell you what you're thinking."

A hundred out of a hundred times I would guess right, and ten out of a hundred Alyssa would guess right. She hated playing that game with me, but I would always plead for her to continue. It didn't matter how hard she made it; I guessed right every time.

One particular night my mom had asked me and my sister to stand guard. Our bedroom faced the front yard, and we were to tell my mom when Nick—my mom's nineteen-year-old boyfriend—was coming up the walk. Nick was ten years younger than my mom. We stayed up for hours straining to stay awake, playing the guessing game. Around three a.m., we were awakened by my mom's screams. Nick was on top of her in the living room, strangling her. My sister called 911 and I jumped on Nick's back, throwing him off my mom. He smashed against the armoire that held my mom's glass figurines. The figurines fell and shattered on the ground as Nick put his hands on top of his head to shield himself from the breaking glass. He looked at me, startled. Getting up, he stormed out.

My sister and I were still crying as my mom caught her breath. She looked straight at me, still laying on the floor with tears in her eyes, and said, "You were supposed to stay awake. You were supposed to warn me when he was coming."

I was eight years old.

I had completely forgotten about that day. I had often wondered where my strength came from and how a tiny, frightened little eight-year-old was able to throw a full-grown man across a room.

My reminiscing was interrupted by a knock at the door. I asked who it was, but there was no answer.

"Who is it?" I said again, louder.

"Ma'am, I'm going door to door collecting money for the poor," a male voice answered.

"I'm sorry, my mom's not here. You're going to have to come back."

"It's raining hard; do you think I can come in to use your phone?"

I paused. Every bone in my body told me to run. This was not a good Samaritan, and I'd just told him that my mom was not home.

_The door. I didn't lock the door._ The man turned the knob and tried to come in. Luckily, I had the chain on.

"Go away! I'm going to call the police if you don't go away." I tried to sound stern and brave, but my voice trembled.

"Come on, Erika, I just want to talk to you. Let me in. I'm coming in either way." The man stuck his hand through the opening of the door.

"Go away! I am calling the police." I ran for the phone.

"Hello, hello?" The phone was dead. _My cell phone— where did I put it?_ I frantically looked for my phone.

The stranger was ramming the door, trying to get the chain to break.

I ran to the kitchen and grabbed the largest knife I could find. The man broke the hinges on the chain. The door went flying open.

A burly man stood before me wearing a dark green raincoat. Rain dripped from his large nose. "So you're Riverton's hero. I am going to have fun with you. I don't like heroes."

He started towards me. I backed up until I felt the cold kitchen countertop on my spine signaling that I was trapped. I took a stance, one foot in front of the other, knife in hand. I prepared to fight.

"Erika, put down the knife. Don't be scared, I promise I will be gentle, I promise you'll love every minute of it. I'm here to be your hero." He inched towards me.

I held the knife up. "If you come any closer, I promise I will hurt you."

"Oh Erika, can't we be friends? I've been thinking of this moment ever since I saw you on TV. Your sweet innocent face, your beautiful slender young body. I can't wait to feel you; I know you are going to feel so good. You are going to be my greatest prize."

I stared at the man, unable to scream. _Do I attack first, or do I wait until he gets closer?_

I was gazing into the eyes of evil. I was frantically deciding the best tactic for my survival when Liam suddenly ran in.

"Erika, are you okay?"

The man turned around to face Liam. Liam looked so small compared to the intruder. The large man advanced on Liam, pulling a knife from under his raincoat. Liam kicked the knife from the man's hands. The man rushed towards him. Liam grabbed the burly man by the throat, lifting him off the ground with one hand. The man gasped for air. His legs kicked frantically. His large hands kept trying to unclench Liam's hold, but it was useless; Liam was too strong.

"Erika, are you okay?" Liam was holding the man in the air effortlessly, as if he weighed five pounds.

"I think so."

I could hear the stranger gasping for air. His face was turning purple, and his legs were flailing less and less. He was dying.

"Liam, let go, you're killing him. He's going to die."

"He doesn't deserve to breathe, Erika. He is a very, very bad man."

"Liam, please put him down, let the police deal with him," I begged.

Liam threw the man to the floor. The man landed on one of the wooden kitchen chairs, breaking it into pieces. He lay on the floor, breathless and panting.

Mr. Blithe and a police officer walked in as the intruder tried to crawl his way out the door.

"I told you we'd be watching you," Mr. Blithe said to me with a smile as he stepped over the crawling man.

The officer handcuffed the man on the floor and called for backup. His familiar dark brown eyes met mine as I heard the same question I was getting accustomed to: "Erika, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think I'm fine."

"I'm going to bring this piece of trash down to the car." The officer lifted the man to his feet and pushed him out the door.

"Was that guy a... a Collector?" I said, turning to Liam.

"No Erika, just a crazy guy your celebrity status conjured. The Collectors will not be that easy to defeat. But I'm glad you've been reading the book. Don't worry, Erika, he will be in jail for a long, long time. He just broke his probation."

Liam grabbed the knife out of my hand and placed it on the counter before leading me out of the kitchen. I guess I must have frozen; I didn't even realize I was still holding the knife and still standing with my back pressed against the kitchen counter.

"Erika, we don't have much time before the Riverton police arrive. I'm sorry that this happened tonight, but thank God that the man who broke in here today wasn't a Collector. I can't make this easier or tell you at a more suitable time, but two more Diamonds were killed today, bringing the total to twenty-two. We need to stop the Collectors, and the only ones who can are the Four Points. You, Liam, Jayson, and Sofia." Mr. Blithe sat next to me on the couch.

"What? What do you mean, two more people were killed?" I asked, changing his reference from Diamonds to people.

"Yes Erika, that makes twenty-two dead out of a hundred. We are running out of time. I know this is fast, but we have to bring you back to England. We have assembled most of the other Diamonds there. We are better suited to protect you in England. Plus, you're not as well-known there, so you wouldn't have to worry about stalkers like the one tonight." Mr. Blithe's tone was desperate.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Blithe, Liam, but I don't know what to believe. All of this seems too impossible to be real... but then Liam, you do things that are unreal. You know when things are going to happen. You picked that man up like he was a feather; you saved my life."

"Erika, I know it all seems strange, but believe me, all of it is real. Everything in the book, it's all true—and you could have easily taken on that guy today, you just need training. When I first heard all of this Diamond stuff, it was hard for me to believe too. Look, Erika." Liam lifted the sleeve of his t-shirt again to show me the diamond birthmark on his shoulder. "We are linked. You have to believe me. Your safety and a lot of others' depends on it."

"What's in England?" I asked, believing now in the man who had just saved my life.

Liam smiled and my heart melted. "My house, the other two Points, most of the Diamonds, and our training facilities."

Just as Liam finished his sentence the familiar police officer came back up the stairs to warn us that the rest of the police were arriving. "I don't think I introduced myself to you at the school Erika. My name is Officer Fuentes—or you can call me Frank." Officer Fuentes turned out to be a real police officer, even though he could have easily passed for an athletic teenager.

"You're the same cop that carried me to the nurse's office." I held his hand and examined the symbol on his sleeve.

"Yes Erika, that symbol means that I am one of your Watchers. I am sworn to protect you. You can always trust anyone who wears this symbol."

It only took about five minutes before the Riverton police arrived. My apartment was crawling with police officers. I refused medical treatment and asked not to be brought down to the station. The police agreed to take my statement in the apartment. I began giving my recollection of the story to a detective, but was interrupted when I got to the part where Liam came in.

"That's when I came in and subdued the suspect." Mr. Fuentes smiled at me.

"Is that what happened, Erika?" the questioning detective asked.

"Yes, Officer Fuentes got here just in time."

"And Officer Fuentes, what brought you to Ms. Martin's residence?" The detective flipped the page of his little notebook.

"I came to visit a friend that lives in this complex and I heard Erika screaming." Officer Fuentes pointed out the window at a building across from mine.

"Okay, well that does it here for us. Looks like you were in the right place at the right time, Officer." The plainclothes detective shook Officer Fuentes' hand and turned his attention back to me.

"Erika, we are assigning a police officer to guard your home for the next week – just as a precaution."

"Thank you. It makes me feel better to know that my family will be guarded."

The police officers began leaving, but Mr. Blithe, Liam, and Mr. Fuentes stayed behind. My mom arrived just as the police officers left the apartment.

"Erika, Erika!" my mom screamed hysterically as she climbed the stairs holding Kai in her arms.

"Mom!" I yelled back.

The relief showed on my mom's face as she walked in and saw me sitting at the kitchen table. She shifted her gaze to the pieces of the broken kitchen chair. "Oh my God, what happened?"

Mr. Fuentes, Mr. Blithe, and Liam introduced themselves as they sat my mom down and explained to her the circumstances of the night.

"But I don't understand why an Oxford professor would be here... and how are you involved?" my mom asked as she picked up a piece of the broken chair.

"We are here to recruit Erika. We didn't know this was going to happen tonight when we showed up, but I'd have to say it was perfect timing. And it further demonstrates that Erika needs to get out of Riverton."

"I don't understand. Out of Riverton? What do you mean?"

"We were on our way here tonight to recruit Erika and get your permission to allow her to come to Oxford. At Oxford we have people who can help Erika cope with her new found fame, her possible feelings of guilt, and to help guide her towards her future. We have a one-of-a-kind, world-class program that admits high-school-aged students who have extraordinary potential and have experienced something traumatic that can interfere with that potential—like the Riverton school shooting. Studies show that after an incident of that magnitude students become distraught, drop out of school, and begin a life-long battle with severe depression if their situation is not addressed immediately and aggressively. We want to make sure that doesn't happen to Erika. Sometimes a new beginning, a fresh start, can make all the difference."

"Oxford is in England, Mr. Blithe. England is far. Erika is only sixteen."

"Yes ma'am, but after tonight, wouldn't you say Erika needs to get out of Riverton to be safe? She's turning seventeen soon, and will be eighteen—an adult—next year."

"Ms. Martin, if you don't mind me saying, it is a very lucky coincidence that these men came here today. It seems like a sign to me. Unfortunately, Erika is a target because of her notoriety, her fame. It would be my advice that you send her to Oxford, a place where she will be less known and well-attended to. In my opinion as a law enforcement agent, she will be much safer." Office Fuentes wasn't in uniform, but he still held the same authoritative tone and stance.

"Officer Fuentes, Mr. Blithe, Liam, I can't thank you enough for what you did for Erika. You saved her life, but I think she should be closer to home, closer to her family, and go to school closer to home."

"Ms. Martin, there is no other program like this in the world. Oxford University is unique in what it offers someone like Erika," Mr. Blithe continued with his relentless campaigning. "Liam, can you please get the brochures from my car to show to Ms. Martin?" Mr. Blithe turned towards Liam, handing him the keys.

"Sure. Erika, do you want to come with me?" Liam was smiling in my direction.

"I want to go! I want to go!" Kai exclaimed as he jumped up and down.

"Kai, please stay inside. You can watch TV in your room."

"Mom, pllllleeeeaaaase!"

"Kai, what did I say?"

"Oh, fine." Kai stomped away to his room.

"Erika, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Okay. Make sure to take an umbrella."

I couldn't help but notice how surreal the situation was. I just had a maniac try to kill me, my mom was worried I would get wet by the rain, and I had a superhuman standing next to me. I grinned to myself.

Liam and I walked down the steps.

"Can I share your umbrella?" Liam asked.

"Sure, I guess."

Liam grabbed the handle, brushing my hand. He held the umbrella over both of our heads.

I was trying to come up with something to say. "I love the rain," I said, wondering if it had sounded forced.

"Me too." Liam stuck his hand out from under the umbrella, catching the rain in his hands. "See, we already have a ton in common," he said as he wiped his hands on his jeans.

"Liam, thank you for tonight."

"Well Erika, you definitely don't seem shaken up. You know you just had a guy in your house who, well, wanted to... well, it doesn't matter now."

"I think I'm getting used to people trying to kill me."

We both laughed. Liam's blue eyes seemed brighter today. He was by far the most handsome man I had ever seen in my life. You would think he would make me feel intimidated, nervous, but he didn't. I was comfortable around him.

"What brochures are Mr. Blithe talking about? I am sure he's not going to give my mom a brochure on The Four Points."

"No. He wants the standard admissions brochure. When you come to England, believe me, he will make sure you attend _all_ of your classes at Oxford. You will be a full-fledged Oxford student, just like me."

"Wait, you mean this is real? I'll be admitted to Oxford? I don't have the grades for that."

"Erika, first of all, you have an almost perfect SAT score and your IQ is off the chart. Plus, you don't have to worry about being accepted. Mr. Blithe will take care of that. It's a little different when you're admitted as a high school Diamond."

"Hey, how do you know my IQ and SAT scores?" I was slightly annoyed at the invasion of privacy.

"I've made it a point to know as much about you as possible." Liam smirked while he unlocked the car door. He handed me the umbrella and sat in the front seat, reaching for the brochures in the glove compartment.

"Hey, wanna see something fun?" Liam got up and shut the car door.

I watched as Liam walked in the rain towards the back of the car.

"What are you doing?" I asked guardedly.

"I am proving to you who I am, who you are."

He stood behind the car, placing his hand under the bumper. He then lifted the back wheels off the ground. He held the car as if it were a sweater dangling over his shoulder. He started walking. He walked the car down five spaces, easily rolling it as if it were a wagon. It was almost completely in an upright position. I gasped as he slowly put the car down.

Did this guy really just pick up a car?

"Mr. Blithe hates when I do stuff like this." Liam's laugh brought me out of my stupor.

"Hey, how'd you do that?" I was amazed.

"You can do it too, you know."

"No, there's no way. I can't."

"Try it. Put Mr. Blithe's car back," Liam challenged.

"You're crazy. I can't."

"You sure like that word crazy. Do you realize how many times you've called me and the Professor crazy? Some less secure people would be offended."

I was embarrassed. After witnessing Liam's display, I thought maybe I had been wrong about Mr. Blithe and Liam. I was excited to be wrong. A wave of electricity tingled through my body. I felt exhilarated. I wanted to jump up and down and scream, but I tried to contain my enthusiasm.

"Just try," Liam urged in anticipation.

"If this is a trick and you just want me to look silly and I can't do it, do I get to hit you for making me try?"

"Deal. You can hit me as hard as you can—but you have to really try and believe you have the strength."

I felt embarrassed and eager as I handed Liam the umbrella and walked over to Mr. Blithe's car. After seeing Liam's strength tonight, first with the intruder, now with the car, I was starting to believe in the story my two new friends were telling me. I bent down and strained as I waited to feel the enormous weight of the car. But I didn't! It was as light as a feather.

"Don't lift it too high or you'll flip it," Liam warned, his voice filled with delight.

I lifted the back wheels just as Liam had—high enough to be in an upright position—but careful enough not to scrape the front bumper on the ground. I rolled the car back to its starting position. When it was positioned correctly I let go and the car fell hard into place, smashing all of the back windows. Glass shattered and flew everywhere, and Liam began laughing uncontrollably.

"Oh my God! Mr. Blithe is going to kill me!" I was mortified. I had just vandalized Mr. Blithe's car.

Liam was still laughing, tears rolling from his eyes. I had never seen him laugh. Little wrinkles gathered at the side of his blue eyes that had become little slits as he found so much humor and pleasure in my destruction of Mr. Blithe's car.

"Liam, stop laughing, it's not funny. It's all your fault, you know. You told me to pick it up. You didn't tell me how to put it down."

Liam wiped the tears from his eyes as we walked away from the car back towards my apartment.

"Okay, okay," he said, still laughing but trying to compose himself. His cheeks were rosy as the blood flowed through his face from all the excitement. "I will take the blame. I'll say I did it." Liam wiped away the tears that rimmed his eyes.

"Is he going to be mad?"

"No, he's not going to care. I'll just tell him I was proving to you who we are."

"Are you sure? Maybe we should just tell him I did it. I'll pay for the damages."

"Don't be silly. You are not paying for a thing; it's not a big deal. Don't worry about it."

"Liam, did I just pick up a freaking car?"

"See? I knew you could do it. Do you believe us now?"

As we approached the apartment, Mr. Blithe and Officer Fuentes walked down the stairs, meeting us at the bottom.

"Come on Liam, it's late. We've intruded enough. We will be back tomorrow morning. I have set up another meeting with Erika's mother." Mr. Blithe held his briefcase above his head to shelter himself from the rain.

"I guess I'll see you guys tomorrow, then," I said. "Thank you all for everything. Liam, thank you again for saving my life." I could feel Liam's eyes on me as I started to make my way up the stairs.

"Sweet dreams," Liam yelled up to me.

"Erika, we will see you again at nine a.m. tomorrow. Please call us any time tonight if you need anything," Mr. Blithe added.

"Bye, Erika." Mr. Fuentes waved.

"Bye, thanks." I quickly hurried up to my apartment so I didn't have to hear Mr. Blithe's reaction when he got back to his car.

I couldn't believe it. Everything Liam and Mr. Blithe had been telling me seemed to be true. I shook the water from my umbrella as I entered the apartment.

My mom and I talked that night about what happened, and about Oxford. I told her how hard it was for me at Riverton. I told her how the students treated me, about the comments of me being a murderer. I told her how it was a struggle for me to get out of bed every day and how if I stayed in Riverton I didn't think I would make it to graduation. I pleaded with her to let me go to England. We ended the conversation with her telling me she needed to think about it.

I went to my room. I laid face down on my bed, hugging my pillow for comfort. I just kept wondering how all this could be real.

My brother Kai knocked on the door, entering at the same time. "Erika, can you read me a bedtime story?"

I looked at his sad eyes and his pouty little mouth. "Of course I can. Pick out a book." I followed Kai to his room.

Kai's room was decorated with superheroes. Decals of Spiderman, Hulk, and The Avengers covered the walls.

Kai chose an X-men book. I laid with him in his little blue bed reading the first few chapters, and as he fell asleep I continued to read.

Could all these books be based on reality? Could these characters really exist? Could I be like one of these characters?

I heard the front door shut. I could hear my sister asking what had happened as my mom cleaned up bits and pieces of the chair. My mom gave my sister a quick rundown of tonight's events.

I met my sister in the hall as she ran down to check on me. I didn't want her to freak out when she didn't find me in my room.

"Oh my God. Erika, are you okay? Mom just told me what happened."

"I'm fine. I just wish people would stop trying to kill me," I laughed.

"Erika, that's not funny. Who was this guy, what did he want?"

"I don't know who he was. I think he was just some crazy stalker."

I wanted to tell Alyssa everything, but how do you explain something like this without being admitted into a psych ward?

"Maybe you shouldn't be at home alone anymore, Erika. If you want, you can come with me and Anthony tomorrow. We're going to some new art exhibit Anthony likes."

"No, that's okay. I don't need to be a third wheel. Plus, did you see the cop car outside? We have our own special security team." I was still trying to find the words to tell at least some of my unbelievable story, but the words never surfaced.

"Well that's good. I have to admit it would be a little freaky to sleep if we didn't have a cop watching us to make sure we were okay. I'm actually still a little freaked out, even with a cop outside. Wanna sleep in Kai's room with me?" Alyssa placed her hands together as if she were praying and made a sad pouty face.

"I think that's a good idea. I don't want to be alone either." Fear of being alone wasn't the real reason I went along with Alyssa's suggestion. I wanted to make sure I was close enough to protect all of them, and I took comfort in knowing that Liam was watching over us as well. "I'll see if Mom wants to sleep in here too." I walked down the hall.

I walked out to the living room and found my mom in the kitchen facing the stove, smoking a cigarette with the stove fan on to suck up the smoke. She didn't notice me; she was transfixed with her nightly ritual. My sister and I would make fun of her for talking to the stove. My mom would sit there for hours, smoking her cigarettes and mumbling to herself. She did this whenever she had something important to think about.

I stared at the back of my mom's head before crouching down behind the partial wall that separated the kitchen and living room. I closed my eyes and pressed my back against the cold partition. My head fit right under the kitchen nook. At first I could only hear my own rambling contemplations. I focused on quieting them and then I started to hear something... my mom's voice. It was as clear as if she were talking directly to me.

"What am I going to do? I have to make the right decision. I've made so many mistakes, and this decision will affect Erika's life forever."

I listened as my mother relived her mistakes in her mind. The regrets she had over Kai not knowing his father. The worries she felt about whether she could teach him to be a man on her own. I listened to her regrets about Alyssa and how Alyssa never really got a chance to be a baby. Because my sister and I were so close in age, Alyssa had often been ignored and had to grow up much faster than what was fair. And then me. I listened to my mom's regrets for saying the mean things she said to me. My mom saw so much of herself in me; she was terrified that I would turn out like her and make the same bad decisions. My mom was so tormented. She wanted to do what was right for me. She wanted to protect me. She knew that with the money we'd earned from my interviews we could buy a house, have a better life. But she also knew she couldn't protect me from the kids at Riverton or from crazy stalkers like the one from tonight.

I stopped listening. It felt intrusive. I crawled down the hall and stood up when I was a safe distance away.

"Erika, I thought you were sleeping," my mom said as she came into the hall, startling me.

She must have heard the creaking of the floor as I'd stood up. I turned around to look at her. I understood her better now. I wanted to tell her that she'd done an amazing job raising three kids on her own, and that a lot of what happened wasn't her fault. Kai's father cheated on her; he chose to leave her for a younger woman. Alyssa and I had the same father, but he was never around. I wanted her to know that I was proud of her and appreciative of the life she had worked so hard to give us. My mother was the strongest, most protective person I knew, and I hated that she had so many regrets.

"Uhmm... I was putting Kai to bed and I fell asleep in his room. Alyssa and I are going to sleep in Kai's room tonight. I think you should sleep there too. It'll be safer."

"I agree. I don't think any of us should be alone. Let's grab the mattress off your bed." I followed my mom as she walked into my room.

Kai, my mom, Alyssa and I all slept together that night. My mom and Kai slept in his bed, while Alyssa and I slept on the mattress next to them. As I watched them all sleep I knew I would never let anything happen to them. I would protect them with my life. I didn't know what the future held, but I was sure of one thing: I was a Diamond, the Western Point. I was The Reader.

# About the Author

J.J. Melvin is an author of YA books. She lives in a beach community in sunny California with her husband, 2 kids, a dog, a cat, a bunny, a hamster, a snake, and several fish.

Inspiration for The Four Points saga came to J.J. Melvin during a long late night drive while staring at a mesmerizing full moon and listening to Adele's _Make You Feel My Love_.

Connect with J.J. Melvin online

<https://www.facebook.com/jjmelvinauthor/?fref=ts>

<https://twitter.com/writerjjmelvin>

<http://www.jjmelvin.com>

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uP3kH5ZRIMc>

If you enjoyed reading The Four Points, I would appreciate if you would help others enjoy this book, too.

**Lend it.** This e-book is lending-enabled, so please, share it with a friend.

**Recommend it.** Please help other readers find this book by recommending it to friends, readers' groups, and discussion boards.

**Review it.** Please tell other readers why you liked this book by reviewing. If you do write a review, please send me an email at writerjjm@gmail.com so I can thank you with a personal email. Or visit me at <http://www.jjmelvin.com>.

Connect with J.J. Melvin online

<https://www.facebook.com/jjmelvinauthor/?fref=ts>

<https://twitter.com/writerjjmelvin>

<http://www.jjmelvin.com>

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uP3kH5ZRIMc>

If you enjoyed reading The Four Points, I would appreciate if you would help others enjoy this book, too.

**Lend it.** This e-book is lending-enabled, so please, share it with a friend.

**Recommend it.** Please help other readers find this book by recommending it to friends, readers' groups, and discussion boards.

**Review it.** Please tell other readers why you liked this book by reviewing. If you do write a review, please send me an email at writerjjm@gmail.com so I can thank you with a personal email. Or visit me at <http://www.jjmelvin.com>.

# Acknowledgements

The characters in this story begged to be freed from the confines of my mind. Thank you to those who helped bring them to life. Their voices and mine can now be heard because of you.

A special thanks to Ellie Kay Bockert Augsburger. Thank you for your imagination and creative talent. You brought my vision to life, creating an amazing book cover and website. You are an invaluable encyclopedia of knowledge; I would be lost without your guidance. Thank you, Carl Augsburger, for your expert editing services. The Four Points would not be the same without you. You pushed me to be a better writer. Thank you, Joan Carney, for your professionalism, feedback, and invaluable proofreading of my 78,000 word run-on sentence. My sincere gratitude to Kolt Winters for your amazing artistic trailer and for your honest insightful opinions.

Thanks to my sister for always being there and championing my story from the beginning. You were the one I could always turn to for help. You took time out of your hectic schedule, juggling three kids (one still in diapers) and working full time to read and give comments when others were too busy. You are my best friend, my sister, and my hero. Thank you for always supporting my dreams. This book would not be a reality without you.

Thanks to my mother for her fierce love and protectiveness. You instilled in me my work ethic and the courage to believe anything is possible. You taught me to forge my own path. Thank you for all that you have done and continue to do. I am proud to call you my mom.

Thanks to my little brother, who I still see as a little boy. You've grown into a mature, smart, man. I love you, and I am proud of the man that you are today.

Thanks to my husband for coming into my life. You are proof that people's paths cross for a reason. You make me a better person. You are my love— my soulmate— my heart— my life partner. Thank you for being mine. I would not have had the courage to publish this book if it were not for you. I love you and always will.

And last but not least, thanks to my kids. You are my most cherished Diamonds, two perfect gems that I love more than words can say. You make me proud every day. My life is complete with you two in it. Shine bright, my little Diamonds, you will always be loved.

