Lucy had a beautiful baby boy, Aspen Jr. 

Why are there so many dead people to have children named after? It's not right. Gerad, Amberly, Aspen... but I'm sure no one will name their baby boy Clarkson. I shiver just thinking of what he did to Maxon. I almost feel bad saying these things about the king. But it's the truth.

Amberly was such a lovely lady. I miss her so much. She always wanted a daughter. And she almost had me to love like a child.

What would have happened if Maxon had died that day? I wouldn't have been the same. I would've thought that Maxon hated me until my last breath. 

And Celeste. She didn't deserve to die. Even though we didn't start out as friends, I was starting to really like her. 

A knock on the door pulls me out of my thoughts. 

"Come in," I call softly.

I turn my head away from the window and look towards the door. Maxon walks in, smiling, and holding our youngest child.

The library isn't huge, so he gets to me in no time.

"Hello, America," he says gently. "How are you?"

I smile. "I'm wonderful. You?"

"Just amazing. You know what Gerad did today?"

I shake my head.

"He asked me if he could play soccer."

I gasp. "He's exactly like Gerad." I pause. "The first."

He nods. "Amberly painted me a picture." He grins and pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket. It had Gerad, her, Maxon, and me holding Logan. It's very good for a five year old girl.

"Wow," I murmur. "That's adorable."

Logan squeals. I look down at him and giggle. He giggles back.

Maxon's strong arms are so gentle towards our kids. And he thought he would become his dad. Yeah, right.

I look back out the window. Everything is so peaceful.

And then a window shatters on the other side of the room.

I scream and Maxon runs with me on to the door. But we don't make it. The door bursts open and more rebels appear. 

I recognize a face.

Derek.

I shout out of anger and pull out a gun that I had forgotten I tucked in a secret pocket of my dress.

Wildly I shoot at the rebels and place myself in front of Maxon and Logan. 

Logan starts crying. 

It's the worst sound in the world.

Maxon protectively wraps his arms around the baby, whispering to him.

Oh, poor guy.

I shoot and shoot and shoot until I hear a strangled cry.

I spin around and look at the ground.

"Maxon!"

I shoot the last of the rebels and turn back around. Fortunatley, he hadn't fallen on Logan. I pick him up and look at Maxon. His head is rolling back.

"No!" I cry. "Maxon, wake up. Please wake up."

I put my forehead against his that I'm holding with my hands. Logan is sitting in my lap, still balling.

"Maxon, please, oh, Maxon..."

I feel his heart beating, slowly but surely. I sigh of relief, tears still flowing. 

So he's just unconcious.

I go over the possible causes.

Gunshots right by him or his ears? No, he was too far away from any of the shots.

An explosion? No, the glass shattering was also too far away.

He was shot? I scan his body for gunshots. There are two, one in each knee.

Oh, God.

That hurts.

And that's why he fell.

I pull my hands away from his head.

They're soaked with blood.

He hit his head.

Hard.

I start crying harder. "Oh, Maxon, please. Please wake up."

Collapsing on top of him, careful not to land on Logan, I whisper, "Maxon... I'll let you call me your dear. I swear... you can have whatever you want. I'll let you do whatever and I'll never question what you say. I love you... so much... please wake up."

I start shaking with anger. It's too much. His heart beat is even slower now.

That's it.

I lose it. Jumping up, I shoot a bullet through the window I was just looking out of. So much for everything being peaceful.

The next minutes are a blur. Maybe I'm just expecting Maxon to suddenly recover from his head and knee injuries, and appear next to me and say, "I would never leave you, my dear."

"My dear" brings tears to my eyes. I would let him. I definitely would let him call me that.

The memory comes back of when I first met him. How I called him stuck-up and shallow, and how I kneed him in the groin. And then how I had to admit that on public television.

I almost laugh at the memory, but instead I cry.

Racing back to Maxon, I pick up Logan and hold him close. "Oh, Logan. I love you, Logan. Your daddy loves you too." I swallow. "He always will."

I kneel next to Maxon's body. I listen to his heartbeat. Even slower now. I gulp. Not long until I can't hear it at all.

Not long until his body turns cold.

Not long until he won't be mine anymore...

Not long until I won't be his.

I curl up next to him and rest my head on his shoulder. I feel his strong arms. That's the first thing I noticed about Maxon.

His arms.

I sigh, suddenly feeling so stupid for notcing that first. Not how kind, or gentle, or handsome he was.

"Maxon," I whisper. "My dear, please wake up."