Maj and Aleigha were playing a game of connect the dots when Blaise picked up the phone in their motel room and dialed the number for the bank where the account was actually located.

      "Hello, National Bank, how may I help you?" A voice asked, coming over the line sounding bored and uninterested.

      "Hi, my name is Blaise Marx," Blaise began.

      "Oh, hello!" The woman greeted, instantly perking up. Blaise knew that the account that was under her name was the largest in that bank. "How may I help you?"

      "Well, I need some information on my account," Blaise said, waiting patiently as she heard the woman’s fingers fly across the keyboard.

      "Okay…what do you need to know, Miss Marx?"

      "Well, as it probably states on your computer screen, I wasn’t the one who set it up, someone else did it for me. I need to know the name of the person or organization who set it up," Blaise replied, twirling her pen between her index and middle finger.

      "All right…" The woman said before typing in a couple commands. "Oh, I’m sorry, I’m not cleared to give you that information."

      Blaise took a deep, calming breath. She should have expected this, they wouldn’t make it that easy. "Then get cleared."

      "No, I’m afraid that you don’t understand. I am not allowed to give that information out because they specifically asked that I not give that information out. I’m sorry."

      "No, I’m afraid that you don’t understand. I need that information, and I need it now," Blaise shot back angrily. She took a few calming breaths before continuing. "Look, my mother has three kids. I’m the oldest. My step-dad and my mom do the best they can, but I need to find my father. He abandoned me at birth, but set the account up for me, or had someone do it for him. I think that the information that I am asking for could help me find him so can find out about certain things," she lied, sniffling a bit to make it more believable.

      "Oh my…I didn’t know," the woman said, instantly apologetic. "Look, I know what you’re going through. I’ll do a security breach and give you the information if you promise not to link it back to me."

      "I promise."

      "A man named Kyle Edwards set it up."

      "Thank you very much…you don’t have a way that I can reach him, do you?"

      "Actually, there’s a phone number here. Its quite old, but you can try it." The receptionist rattled off the phone number that Blaise copied down.

      "Thank you very much," Blaise said with heartfelt emotion. She hung up the phone briefly before picking it back up and dialing the next number.

      "Hello?" A young child, no more than eight, asked upon answering the phone.

      "Hi, may I please speak with Mr. Kyle Edwards?" Blaise asked hopefully.

      "Who’s calling?" the little girl asked seriously.

      "Blaise Marx."

      "Okay! Hold on!" The little girl said before pulling the phone away from her ear. "DADDY! BLAISE MARX IS ON THE PHONE!"

      Blaise winced at the high pitched scream but waited patiently. She could hear a man and a woman talking; the woman demanding who Blaise Marx was, and the man asking her to wait a second. Finally, someone picked up the phone.

      "This is Kyle Edwards."

      Blaise swallowed nervously. "Hi, my name is Blaise Marx-"

      "I know your name. Why are you calling me?" The man demanded gruffly.

      "Look, all I want is some information-"

      "I’m not telling you anything. I was hired to set up that account for you, and I did it. Stop bothering me and my family."

      "I’m sorry for bothering you, but I really need to know-"

      "I’m not answering your questions."

      "You don’t understand-"

      "I don’t want to. I want you to stop bothering me."

      "Please, me and my sisters, we’re in trouble…our parents our dead, and I need some information!" Blaise begged, causing her sisters to look at her worriedly.

      "No, you don’t. You don’t need to know. Let me give you a couple tips. One, stop messing with me and my family. Don’t call back here, or you’ll draw unwanted attention to me and my family. Two, if you want to throw those on your trail off, fuck with their minds. That’s all I’m telling you," Kyle Edwards said, though not as angrily. Blaise took a deep breath.

      "Please, sir, can you-"

      Click. Blaise cursed under her breath before slamming the phone down. Damn those tight-mouthed sons of bitches. Damn them all.

      However, she didn’t have much time to think on it. The ring was beginning to have the first tinges of burning, which singled that they had about an hour to get away. It was rare that they got this much notice, and Blaise planned to take advantage of it.

      "Come on!" she ordered, jumping up. While Aleigha and Maj grabbed their bags and straightened things up quickly, Blaise took a tube of ugly lipstick that her mother had had and quickly scrawled a message on the large mirror.

      "All right, let’s go. Out the front door and through the lobby, we have plenty of time," she said with a smile as she tucked the now half-used tube of lipstick in her pocket. She took Maj’s hand, and they left the hotel.

      Gregory cursed under his breath as he walked into the hotel room. They were gone, and, from the looks of it, had been for quite awhile. Damn them. Damn that ring.

      "Gregory, look at this," Hannyah spoke up, looking at the mirror.

      On the smooth surface of the mirror, in a bright, ugly lipstick color, a message was scrawled.

      "I believe the sun should never set upon an argument," Dovid read aloud. "Signed Blaise, Aleigha, and Maj."

      "What’s that supposed to mean?" Gregory bellowed as he glared at the offending mirror.

      "Well, for one, they were expecting us," Hannyah said. "And two, its probably a warning."

      "What? A warning? They’re the ones being hunted here, not us!" Dovid exclaimed.

      "Maybe they’re planning a way to trap us and kill us," Gregory said thoughtfully with a nod. "We have to be on our guard…watch for more of these warnings…see if we can piece them together, if there are more."

      Jacob Creeden was listening to a boring monologue about one of the cases, nearly asleep. Zane Matthews, who had been forced to sit in just in case he was needed, was fast asleep, his head resting on the back of his chair. Carolina Mink looked as if she would walk through fire just to get out of that room. Everyone was bored.

      Suddenly, the door burst open and a familiar black man walked in. "All right, when I took that job, y’all promised me that after I set up the account that no one, including you people here and that little girl, would never contact me!"

      "Well, Mr. Edwards, what a pleasant surprise," Jacob said with a genuine smile, glad for the interruption. "Have a seat. What seems to be the problem?"

      Kyle Edwards dropped into an empty seat. "That girl that I set up the account for, Blaise Marx, she somehow found my number and called me earlier this evening, wanting some ‘help’."

      There was shocked silence around the table. "What…what did she want?" Jacob finally, shocked beyond all.

      "I’m not sure exactly, but I have a feeling that she’s trying to find you guys," Kyle replied with a shrug. "But if she contacts me again, she’ll have something different to worry about besides whatever else is after her. I’ll be after her if she gets my family into this."

      "Now calm down, Mr. Edwards," Jacob said slowly. "Don’t worry about it. We’ll find her and make sure she stops."

      "You’d better," Kyle said, standing up. "Or I will kill her. Nobody hurts my family."

      With that, he stood up and left the room.

      "All right," Jacob said, pounding on the table. "Zane, find out what hotel they’re staying at tonight, then get down there and warn them against trying to find us. Don’t worry about the two younger ones…just scare the oldest enough so that she stops."

      Zane nodded and stood up. "All right, no problem. Carolina, I’m going to need the use of your computer."

      Zane walked into the motel room, an eerie silence in the air. He flipped on the light and took a deep breath. The room had been trashed. Tables thrown over, chairs broken, everything was trashed.

      "Looks like someone else got here before I did," he commented, stepping over a broken chair. His eyes caught sight of the mirror.

      "I believe the sun should never set upon an argument. Signed Blaise, Aleigha, and Maj," he read aloud. Then, he couldn’t help but laugh. "Well, I’ll be damned. They knew that they were coming in enough time to leave them a message and get out. Smart asses."

      He laughed again and reached for the phone on the desk. "Hey, Carolina…its Zane. They’re already gone…and it looks as if they were here not too long ago, but too late to catch the girls. The girls left them a message, though…I’ll tell you later…can you do me a favor?…great, I need to know where the next deposit of check or credit card was…they’ll need another room for the night…and I need to know which one it is…great…great, thanks."

      Zane set the phone down and carefully walked out of the room. Credit cards were so easy to trace.

      Aleigha and Maj had fallen asleep long ago, so Blaise had gotten in the shower. She was now standing over her bed, in a pair of pajama bottoms and a bra, looking for her t-shirt so that she could swap the bra for it. She was squinting in the dim room, not wanting to turn on a light for fear of waking up her sisters.

      Suddenly, a hand clamped over her mouth from behind while another arm grabbed her tightly around the waist. Before she could move her head, the hand over her mouth moved to her eyes.

      "Don’t say a word," A voice threatened in her ear. "Got it?"

      "Sure," Blaise replied, immediately breaking the first rule of hostage situations. She didn’t care, whoever this was wasn’t there to hurt her, the ring told her so.

      The arm around her waist tightened almost painfully, and the hand over her eyes held her head back against the shoulder of the man behind her so that she couldn’t move.

      "You’re messing with things that you shouldn’t be messing with," the voice said threateningly.

      "And what would those things be?" she asked, just for the hell of it.

      "The Haven. If we wanted you to find us and know who we are, then we would come to you. It doesn’t work the other way around," the voice replied. Blaise laughed under her breath.

      "Oh, yeah, sorry, I forgot."

      "Its not wise to piss us off, Blaise," the voice warned her. Blaise could feel his breath blowing softly against her neck, and, since the ring remained cool on her finger, she remained calm and confident.

      "And I care? I’ve already pissed off a bunch of other people that I don’t even know, so why not you guys, too?" she shot back sarcastically. She thought she heard him chuckle, but she wasn’t sure.

      "Because," he finally began. "We support you. Piss us off, and we could withdraw that support and let them get you."

      "Oh, so you’d just speed up the inevitable? They are already going to get us, its just a matter of time."

      "No, they won’t. Not if you keep running and do what you’re supposed to do," The voice told her, almost impatiently, as if talking to a small child. Blaise broke free of his restraints, not caring as she turned around to face him.

      "Oh that is such bull!" she hissed, trying to keep quiet so that her sisters didn’t wake up. "And you guys of all people should no that!"

      "Hey, now-" the guy, who looked to be about nineteen, began, but she interrupted him.

      "Oh, no, wait, I forgot! You guys all lost touch with reality about nineteen hundred years ago! You all are sitting in your nice little mansion, ‘working’ for us and ‘supporting’ us. You all are safe and have never had to run from anything in your lives! We, on the other hand, have never known the reality of this term safety, and we have never known anything but late night running, two beds, a coffee machine, and a different city each day!" Blaise hissed angrily, grabbing her t-shirt out of her bag and throwing it over her head.

      "Hey! If it wasn’t for us, you wouldn’t be here! So stop complaining!" he hissed back, taking a step closer to her.

      "We won’t be here much longer, so why not complain?"

      "Damn it! We are trying to help you stay alive!"

      "Maybe, but The Haven is so out of touch with the whole magnitude of our problem that you can’t see the end like we can! Don’t you tell me not to complain! You tell that to my sisters…you tell them that you’re not going to help us…you be the one to tell a four year old and a twelve year old that they’re never going to live to see their teen years! You tell them that, because I don’t want to! I’m trying everything I can to keep them safe, and The Haven is fucking it up and saying that everything is fine! Well, I have news for you! IT’S NOT!" Blaise yelled as best as she could in a whisper. ‘Oh great,’ she thought. ‘I’m crying now! Please, God, don’t let him see.’

      "Look, just stop trying to find us," he threatened. "Or all hell is going to break loose."

      With that, he left the room, and Blaise sat down on the bed. "Damn them…" she muttered as she wondered how they had found them. "It must’ve been the credit card."

      Then, she smiled to herself. She hadn’t lived on the run for so long without becoming an awesome pickpocket. She looked down at the little book of phone numbers and various information that she had swiped from his pocket.

      "All right," she said slowly. "If this has the info in it that I want, then I will stop trying to find you…I will have already found you."