Hey, all! Here it is - the first chapter of my next story. I took your advice and am writing the rest of the series in Zach's point-of-view. Thanks for reading! I hope you like it!

I don't remember a time when I didn't know about the Circle. As far back as I can remember, I've always known what the Circle is, what it stands for. I can't remember a time when I ever wanted to be with them, either. Every year from the time I turned eleven I would receive a letter, the stamps on the envelope foreign, stating that the Circle of Cavan would be honored if I joined them. Every year my mother would hand me the envelope as she looked through the mail, her eyes bright. "This could be the year, Zach," she would say. "Come on," she would urge as I opened the envelope, knowing what was in it. "Make your mom proud." Each year I would come up with a new excuse as to why I didn't join – I was too young, I felt I was too inexperienced, I wanted to focus on my studies, et cetera. But last summer I had had it. At the end of June, just like every year, my mother walked in one day, mail in hand, and handed me the envelope. "We could really use you, Zachary," she said, her eyes pleading with me.

I looked down at the envelope. The paper seemed to burn my fingers. "No." I said.

She looked taken back, shocked, almost. "What?"

I looked into her eyes. "I said no. I'm not joining." Rage filled her face, but I didn't stop. "Every year, you tell me how much I could help the Circle, how useful I would be. How could they help me?"

She put a hand on my shoulder. "Zachary, listen to me." Her voice was hard, her grip firm. "I know you're confused, and I'm sure your little trip to Gallagher didn't help matters." She paused, like she knew what she wanted to say but wasn't sure if she was actually going to say it or not. "But trust me. The Circle has plans…" she trailed off, and her gaze shifted from me to the window. She studied the horizon. "The Circle has plans, Zach, and you could really help with them. Now more than ever, you would be such an amazing help…"

"Why now?" I asked. "What's so important that you need me to help you, and why right now?"

Her hand moved to my face, and she stroked my cheek. "Zach, my baby," she whispered. "You're so much like your father."

I froze. Never before had she volunteered information about my dad. I had no idea who he even was. I never got birthday cards, or phone calls on Christmas. I didn't even know his name. "Tell me about him?" I whispered.

She leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. "Maybe someday," she said, and her eyes became distant.

"Why now, Mom?" She studied me. I hated it when she looked at me like that, when she looked like she loved me. I hated her. I didn't want her to care about me at all. I wanted to forget she even had a son, but she couldn't.

"Come here," she said, going into her room and taking out a large binder. On the front, in big, bold letters, were the words MATTHEW MORGAN. She opened the binder, and the first picture made my stomach churn. Cammie. "This is why," she said, her voice low. "She has information, Zach." I reached out, brushed my fingers across the page. She looked at me, but I kept my gaze locked on the picture. "Information that we need." She reached out, moved my face so I was looking at her. "And you could help us get it. Do you understand?"

I thought of all the times since we left Gallagher I had sat down with paper and a pencil, or picked up the phone, in attempt to contact Cammie Morgan. I tried, but could never force myself to write or dial. I needed to protect her, and couldn't do that if I kept in contact with her. I needed to stay as far away from that girl as possible. "Zach?" My mother's voice snapped me back to the present. "The Circle needs your help, Zach," she pleaded.

I turned and ran. My mother called for me to stop, but I kept running. Finally I stopped at a payphone. I pulled a couple of quarters out of my pocket and dialed. It seemed to ring forever, but finally someone answered it. "Joe?" I asked, trying to regain my breath. "I think we need to talk. Can you pick me up?"