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“Matthew has asked me to pass on a message to join him at the break this morning,” Odval hummed.

“Now?” I asked with a mouth full of cereal.

“Yes, now.” Odval nodded solemnly.

Joseph chuckled lightly, quickly clearing the dishes. “You heard the lady!”

Odval lingered in the doorway. “I love what you’ve done, Rosa…” I waited as she formed her request. She didn’t need to be weird about it. “I don’t suppose you could come help Pelo and me finish off our extra bedroom? Three children in one room… it’s getting rather cramped,” she asked quietly.

I laughed as Joseph’s arm snaked around my waist. “Of course I can!”

We stepped out of our newly built cottage and I closed the heavy, wooden door behind us. Its solidity reassured me. I’d wanted to be near Pau but not inside the walls. I just couldn’t go back in there after what happened to my mother. I couldn’t make Rosa-May go back in there either. Cottages spotted the woods like they’d always been there. A lot of the citizens shared our feelings on living inside Pau Brazil after Ring Two was destroyed.

Joseph batted at Rosa-May’s legs. “So Posie, you want a ride?” She grinned. She was still mostly silent, but a new word appeared every few days or so. I understood. She kept them treasured and secret. They were her one way of controlling things, and I wouldn’t push. I wouldn’t take that away from her.

He swept her up and hoisted her onto his shoulders.

Orry and I held hands and swung them high as we found the new road that led from Pau Brazil to Bagassa and walked towards the break in the wall.

We approached the gathering crowd and like a bright torch in a tunnel, my vision flicked to one glowing image, a personal, everyday moment that meant so much more: Their foreheads touching gently, brushing like bending bows. Deshi then lifted his face and kissed the top of his son’s head. There was a small explosion in that kiss. Healing stars that spun out and spread. They told me that with time, with love, any relationship could be repaired. It was a hope I held for all of us.

Matthew stood in front of the break, scratching his leg nervously, the breeze causing the thousands of red death marker ribbons to wave and jump from the twisted concrete like they were alive. Survivors crowded around closest to him. The citizens of Pau formed an outer shell. Except for where Gwen stood, surrounded by kids from the Classes. They pierced the unspoken thin-film barrier that stood between Survivor and Woodlands Citizen. They padded after her and hung off her every word on music and culture, and she loved it. If they ever reopened the Classes as a university, whatever that meant, like Matthew wanted, she would make a great Guardian.

When Matthew saw me, he smiled and ran over, pushing his way through the crowd.

“Look at Gwen,” I said. “Wouldn’t she make a great Guardian?” She smirked at me and gestured to all the eager eyes on her.

“If we manage to re-open the Classes as a university, we’d call them counselors, Rosa,” Matthew corrected. I rolled my eyes. I didn’t care what word we used—I was counting on the meanings behind them changing.

Matthew took my arm, his eyes widening in nervous panic as he took in the large group of people whose faces had followed him to me. “I can’t do this. I’m a doctor, not a politician.”

“They chose you,” I said, sweeping my arm in an arc over everyone who had voted for Matthew, almost unanimously, to be our representative in the negotiations for peace with the remaining four settlements that would take place in the now-empty Classes compound.

“I wish you were coming with me,” he said, pumping his injured hand to steel himself.

I paused. He had asked. But I couldn’t leave my family again. He understood. I was helping here, doing my small part and stepping into the background, into the shade of the others who would lead. They didn’t need me. It was a wonderful, all-encompassing feeling of release.

“You don’t need me,” I said, smiling, real face-full-of-teeth kind of smiling.

Joseph leaned over my shoulder and whispered in my ear, sending that golden thrill through me that only he could, “I need you.” But I knew what he really meant was he wanted me.

“You’re doing fine without me,” I managed, winding one hand through Joseph’s and pushing Matthew forward with the other.

He nodded. “Okay. Thank you,” he said, bundling his nerves together and placing them in his shirt pocket.

Matthew strode back through the crowd, climbed atop a broken slab concrete, and turned to address the watching eyes, the waiting hearts,

“Citizens of the Free Woodlands…”

Can't get enough of The Woodlands Series?  Don't forget to check out Lauren's newest novella, The Willful!  This is the first of several novellas that are to be released over the next year.

This story is for the readers who have stood by the series and by me over the last two years. Without your encouragement and support I never would have got this far. You’ve been an inspiration and a comfort on those doubtful days. And lifted me higher on the joyful ones. Thank you.

I’d like to thank my family, Michael, Lennox, Rosalie and Emaline for cheering me on, for being patient when I vagued out in the middle of conversations because I had disappeared into the world of the Woodlands. For understanding my need to finish, my compulsion to write and my crankiness at being interrupted. You’ve made it all worth it with your pride and belief in me.

Chloe, my critique partner and dear friend, has been a constant source of help. She has worked through this manuscript and picked up all those little annoying things like punctuation and spelling that I’m terrible at (though I’m trying to learn). But mostly, I appreciate her for understanding my crazy.

Finally, thank you Clean Teen Publishing. Courtney, Rebecca, Marya, and Dyan, you have been amazing to work with, you have assuaged all my fears about publishing, and made it an enjoyable experience from the first word to the last.

Daughter of a Malaysian nuclear physicist father and an Australian doctor mother, Lauren Nicolle Taylor was expected to follow the science career path. And she did, for a while, completing a Health Science degree with Honors in obstetrics and gynecology. But there was always a niggling need to create which led to many artistic adventures.

When Lauren hit her thirties, she started throwing herself into artistic endeavors, but was not entirely satisfied.  The solution: Complete a massive renovation and sell their house so they could buy their dream block of land and build. After selling the house, buying the block and getting the plans ready, the couple discovered they had been misled and the block was undevelopable. This left her family of five homeless.

Taken in by Lauren’s parents, with no home to renovate and faced with a stressful problem with no solution, Lauren found herself drawn to the computer. She sat down and poured all of her emotions and pent up creative energy into writing The Woodlands.

Family, a multicultural background and a dab of medical intrigue are all strong themes in her writing. Lauren took the advice of ‘write what you know’ and twisted it into a romantic, dystopian adventure! Visit Lauren at her website: http://www.LaurenNicolleTaylor.com.

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