[Please read the instructions before jumping in!]

Tam stared down at the phone, his hands trembling. Immediately, the worst case scenario flooded in: that something had happened to his brother when he was taken by the witch, that it really was from Ash but that Ash didn’t recognize him any more.

But as soon as he thought that, he dismissed it as unlikely. Not impossible, but unlikely. Maybe Ash had dropped his phone and a stranger had found it. Maybe it was the witch herself, digging for information.

He had to play it cool. He knew that, and even so, it took an intense act of will to reply casually.

He typed carefully: Wait, isn’t my number in your phone? It seemed like the best option to get some kind of information from whoever this was.

Waiting for the reply, he took a few moment to steady himself, drawing a few deep breaths with his eyes closed, then letting them back out. There was nothing to do but take things step by step. And he needed all the information he could get.

Tam forced himself to move. He rose from the bed with his phone in one hand, leaving his room and heading down the hall to Ash’s. For a moment, he thought he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to turn the knob—but he did, stepping inside just as his phone buzzed again.

It was a relief to look at that and not the empty room. The reply on the screen read: Yes, of course it is. But who are you?

That made things clearer and less clear all at once. He answered right away: Did you find this phone or something? I’m not sure how I could be in your phone and you not know who I am…

It took him a moment to force himself to look up from his phone to examine the room. He tried to stay critical as he did so, not letting himself think or feel anything, but even so, the ache in his chest was starting again, like there wasn’t enough room in his rib-cage.

There was no sign of a struggle, and the bed didn’t look slept-in. The desk chair was pulled out, and Ash’s laptop was missing—the charger was still there, though, which seemed odd. Did he not have enough time to take it with him, or was he too drunk after the party to realize that he’d need it if he was leaving?

Or had he thought he was only going for a short time, and didn’t realize he wasn’t coming back?

What was on the desk was a birthday card. Tam’s heart stuttered in his chest, and he approached it slowly. His hand felt like it belonged to someone else as he reached for it, running his fingertips over the ridges on the cover. It was an overly cartoonish “You’re 1 years old now!” baby boy card. Ash had scribbled a 2 in front of the one in sharpie, his usual sort of humor.

His phone buzzed again. Trying to swallow the lump, he lifted it again, peering at the screen through the haze forming in his vision.

It’s not my phone, no. Do you need it back? I can take it to a drop-off location if you want.

It sounded like the phone had just been discarded, but Tam wasn’t ready to give up hope yet. He wanted to believe that whoever had it was testing him, or at least that they were still close to wherever Ash might be. He might be able to get into Ash’s account, maybe use Google’s Find My Device feature to at least narrow the area down. And if it had been lost, that itself might provide information. Where did you find it?

He sent the message, then grabbed the card before he could have second thoughts, opening it up.

It didn’t seem to be any sort of clue. Two tickets were folded into the card, both to Lithway’s One Shadow Play: Diary of a Madman. Tam loved the couple of Lithway plays that he’d seen—the shapeshifting shadow-creature was able to mimic multiple parts with ease, though all the characters had that same soft, yearning voice. In the card itself, there was a note, or most of one: Happy birthday, “little” bro! I thought we could see this together. These tickets were the first ones sold for the show this year and come with the chance to meet Lithway themself backstage after the per-

And that was it. Ash’s sort of sloppy handwriting had stopped there, as if he’d been interrupted and hadn’t picked his pen back up.

Tam couldn’t hold it in any more. He folded the card around the tickets and held it in one hand as he sank into Ash’s chair, sobbing. He hated how it felt, the tension in his cheekbones and forehead, the pressure in his nose, the scarring temperature of the tears leaking down his face. But he couldn’t help it, either. All he could do was let this out and then… keep trying. He’d go down to the library once he’d got himself back together. He could talk to Sahil, and maybe try to learn more about the Valley in person.

His phone buzzed again, and he looked at it through a blur of tears:

I didn’t say I found it. Once again, who is this?

[Please suggest an action in the Comments.
As a reminder, it can be thoughts, words, or deeds!]

[Completed Parts: Instructions | Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 | Day 11 | Day 12 | Day 13 | Day 14 | Day 15 | Day 16 | Day 17 | Day 18 | Day 19 | Day 20 | Day 21 | Day 22 | Day 23 | Day 24 | Day 25 | Day 26 | Day 27 | Day 28 | Day 29 | Day 30 | Epilogue | Author’s Notes]

[Please read the instructions before jumping in!]

Even if he’d just been trying to keep his spirits up, it wasn’t necessarily a completely absurd idea; apparently witches did answer ads. Their family’s case had been twenty-one years ago, so Tam imagined this particular witch must have been looking in the newspaper’s classifieds, but that didn’t mean that she, or others like her, hadn’t kept up with the times.

He went to google her directly, then hesitated, pinky finger just slightly depressing the enter key—not enough to send the query through, not yet. It might be stupid of him not to just try to find her name and address directly; for all he knew, she had a storefront somewhere and he could be there within half an hour.

But he didn’t know anywhere near enough about how witches did magic, and if she had some sort of alert set up for searches on her name, maybe he should make sure he wasn’t at his home computer when he did that. If nothing else, if she saw that someone in the family was trying to look her up, she might move his brother somewhere else.

If she hadn’t already.

Tam shook himself, trying to focus. He could at least do some research on witches in general, and protection spells, and that sort of thing.

The next hour went by in an increasingly frustrated haze. It became apparent very quickly that he didn’t have enough grounding in the subject to sort through what was real and what was just rumor. Given how monsters had been popular before anyone had known they were real—presumably some old human memory twisted and confused over the centuries their gates had been closed—there was a huge wealth of misinformation, and narrowing down the truth might take a while.

At least three times, he found blogs claiming to belong to witches, only to find (in the comments, or on trying to verify through secondary searches) that they were wannabes instead. The other blogs he’d found might be real, but the false results threw the rest into doubt.

What he was pretty sure of, after some time on Wikipedia, was that witches were humans who had some sort of monster bloodline that left them capable of doing real magic—if properly trained. Some had trained under demons or other magical monsters; others, under previous witches. Their bloodline allowed them to call the Valley home, if they wished to, or even enter the Otherworld. A source even lead to an article about a few witches who had become famous in the Otherworld itself; the journalist’s bio listed her as a faun, so presumably, that much was reliable.

Other articles, written by humans, he had to doubt more. From everything he’d heard, and everything he was reading, normal humans, those untouched by the Other, just didn’t enter the Otherworld. The Valley, sure—anyone could go there. But not through the gates itself.

He wondered if being laid claim to by a witch was enough to let one pass through. If so, his brother might already be fully out of his reach.

No. He couldn’t let himself despair. He researched protection spells next, again with mixed results—but in the process of reading the offers people were putting on Craigslist, found a link to what he hoped was a major lead and not some stupid human imitation: Witch Yelp.

“I can’t believe this,” he muttered. They’d even branded it as Welp.

Following that thread got him information on several highly rated witches, whose websites occasionally had bits of depressing information: Don’t make a binding contract if you’re not prepared to have to deal with the outcome, because witches keep their promises, for good or ill. He learned that witches traded for other people’s freedom for all kinds of reasons: because they wanted a servant, because they wanted an apprentice, because they needed a person of this or that description for spell materials.

The only bit of good news he got was how the protection on his family probably worked: a common sort of protection spell was to essentially mark the targets as belonging to one of the denizens of the Otherworld. Most monsters would take that as reason enough to stay hands off, though if antagonized, might still attack. A good practitioner would combine the mark with some sort of alert with auto-triggered spells to deal with attackers, or even to draw the caster’s attention remotely through a far-sight spell.

Tam couldn’t help but notice that his parents’ own contract didn’t specify any of that. Maybe it didn’t need to. Maybe it did, and his parents had gotten the bare minimum without realizing, too soon after the Valley’d shown up to know what to bargain for.

And what he didn’t find during any of his research was the name Istem. Not for Bella, not for anyone who might be her son. Even when he googled it by itself—that at least surely couldn’t let off any alarms—the results were buried under STEM programmes.

Frustrated, he closed Chrome and rubbed his face, breathing into his hands. He felt overwhelmed with information, dizzy with it, but didn’t actually feel any more informed.

And he missed his brother.

He picked up his phone, opening up Ash’s last texts to read them. It’s good! Coming home in about half an hour though. Tam had replied, then Ash again: Of course I’m not driving, Sahil’s the dd. See you soon.

Suddenly, his hands were trembling. He tried to keep them steady as he wrote: Ash, if you get this, please write back to me. I’m scared.

He hit send, even believing that his brother would never see it. Probably he hadn’t been allowed to bring his phone. Probably, even if he had taken it with him, it was confiscated.

Don’t think about that, Tam pleaded with himself.

So the last person to see Ash, minus their parents, was Sahil. Sahil was one of Ash’s coworkers; maybe Tam should talk to him. He could go down to the library in person, or head into Ash’s room and see if he could find an email address on his computer or something.

He didn’t want to go to Ash’s room. He wasn’t sure he could handle seeing it and knowing Ash wasn’t coming back.

“I have to keep moving.” He said it aloud to try to convince himself, but hated how much his voice was trembling. He needed information direct from the Valley; Sahil might be able to help, or might be a dead end. He considered contacting some of the monsters he’d been classmates with in high school, but they’d never been close; he sent a message to Jared instead. Jared had been a pretty good friend of his, although he’d gotten a little awkward after Tam had come out. Still, Jared never said anything about it, just didn’t seem to know how to react, and he had done some interviews with one of the vampire clans for the student paper. Jared had sent him birthday wishes on Facebook too, so it wasn’t like the contact would be out of nowhere.

Jared, can I run some stuff past you about the Valley? It’s sort of urgent. Let me know. He sent his number along with the email.

His phone vibrated almost as soon as he’d sent the email on his computer, and he jumped, fumbling to switch between them and turn the screen on with numb hands. There, in the text thread with Ash, was a reply:

Sorry, who is this?

[Please suggest an action in the Comments.
As a reminder, it can be thoughts, words, or deeds!]

[Completed Parts: Instructions | Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 | Day 11 | Day 12 | Day 13 | Day 14 | Day 15 | Day 16 | Day 17 | Day 18 | Day 19 | Day 20 | Day 21 | Day 22 | Day 23 | Day 24 | Day 25 | Day 26 | Day 27 | Day 28 | Day 29 | Day 30 | Epilogue | Author’s Notes]

[Please read the instructions before jumping in!]

Tam curled his fingers into fists; even as short and blunt as he kept his nails, he could feel them biting into his palms.

The initial shock was making way for waves of helpless anger, and he tried to breathe evenly. He had to keep in control—not because they didn’t deserve his anger. Right now, they probably deserved it more than anything in the world. How many of his and Ash’s lovely shared birthdays had been because of some sort of guilt from his parents? As if they were paying off a debt to their children, who foolishly thought it was love instead, for a full twenty-one years?

But if he lost his temper, he wouldn’t be able to get more information.

And he needed information if he was going to be able to save his brother.

So he focused all his anger on those slices of pain in his palms, like he could push it all down into his hands and keep the rest of him clear and calm. Envisioning it helped, a glowing red aura around his two clenched fists, focused there and leaving his body a soft blue.

“Okay,” Tam said, and was amazed at how evenly it came out. “I don’t understand, though. Did the witch show up last night? If it’s the night of his twenty-first birthday, that’s tonight, right? Not tomorrow?”

“I’d hoped so,” his mother said. “But… I think it was like Christmas Eve, you know? The night before the day itself?”

What a horrible comparison, Tam thought.

“At any rate, her servant showed up at exactly midnight.” Eric sounded grim now that he no longer had to be quite so defensive. “We were waiting up, in case that was how it was going to be.”

Tam couldn’t look at them, not and remain calm. He cast his gaze around the room instead, noting the empty wine bottle and stained glasses on the counter. He wasn’t sure if it made him feel better or worse that they’d needed some liquid courage to go through with this. “Her servant?” he asked.

“Maybe her son? He didn’t exactly look like her,” Eric said. “Human, though.”

“Or human-looking,” Alice muttered. “He had a picture of the contract on his phone, held up by the witch? As proof.”

“He didn’t even bring the real contract?!” Tam’s voice was rising, and he forced it down. It was true that if this man was the witch’s servant, then he’d be acting in her stead. Even so, it seemed so… careless. Losing their son was one thing, but not even insisting the witch come herself?

His head was whirling with their betrayal. He had no way to assess whether or not giving Ash up to a witch’s servant would have been breaking the terms at all. He drew a breath. Let it out. “Okay,” he said. “Do you know the witch’s name?”

“Miss Bella Istem,” Eric said sourly. “That’s how she signed the contract.”

Tam had never heard the name before, but didn’t expect to. He’d spent a little time in the Valley, of course—it was unreasonable to avoid it entirely if you lived this close, and besides, his brother worked down there. But visits to the shops there, going to meet his brother at work, and having a few monsters attend his old high school… that was about the extent of his personal involvement in the Valley. It was a huge district, and the vast majority of people who lived there were from the Otherworld, or tied closely to it. He wondered if he’d be able to find her with a name alone.

He wished he knew more about how these things worked. Of course, he’d watched TV shows about Otherworldly crime bosses duking it out in Valleys in the big cities, and remembered one storyline about a witch making herself a child army, but he doubted that TV was going to give him an honest view of the sale of family members to the supernatural.

But he had to work with what little he had. Something else occurred to him, then. “Do you still have your copy of the contract?”

“Yes,” Alice said. “It’s too late now, though, for it to do any good—”

“I just—” His voice cracked as he forced it back down from a shout. “I don’t have a brother, right now, so I’d like that instead. For my birthday.”

Alice and Eric shared another one of those hard looks, but Alice got up. Tam followed her upstairs to her office, where she pulled down the bin of important papers—the house’s deed, tax forms, old receipts—and dug through it until she found a single piece of old printer paper and held it out to him.

In return for a blessing on the household and a promise to mark to the denizens of the Otherworld that Eric Lynes, his wife Alice Lynes, and their immediate descendants, will be recognized as under my protection, I, Bella Istem, lay claim to Alice and Eric’s firstborn child on the eve of said child’s twenty-first birthday, to collect as my own.

It was signed, as noted, by a Miss Bella Istem, as well as Tam’s parents. Tam forced himself to hold it carefully, straightening up. “Did you seek her out or did she come to you asking for the child?”

“We… we put out an ad,” Alice said.

“An ad?” He could hardly contain himself anymore. “Wanted, one witch to protect human household, will sell child for it?”

“Just—just the first part!”

“I’m taking this,” he said hoarsely, turning away with the contract. “Thanks.”

“Tam—”

He had to get out or he was going to explode. “That’s it,” he said. “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

It was the nicest way he could put it, under the circumstances, but he was amazed he hadn’t said anything worse. He headed back to his room, pulling out one of the folders he’d bought for university, and sliding the paper inside.

There, Tam sat on his bed, holding the folder, head throbbing, throat aching. He felt desperate to get up and do something.

But what? Beyond greeting Ashton’s coworkers when he saw them around, and maybe seeking out any old schoolmates who hadn’t left town, he didn’t know anyone from the Valley. He could always just go down there himself and start asking around, but would that be enough? Should he risk getting any of his human friends involved, or should he go it alone?

Maybe I should put out an ad, he thought with an edge of hysteria, a warm knot sitting in the center of his chest.

[Please suggest an action in the Comments.
As a reminder, it can be thoughts, words, or deeds!]

[Completed Parts: Instructions | Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 | Day 11 | Day 12 | Day 13 | Day 14 | Day 15 | Day 16 | Day 17 | Day 18 | Day 19 | Day 20 | Day 21 | Day 22 | Day 23 | Day 24 | Day 25 | Day 26 | Day 27 | Day 28 | Day 29 | Day 30 | Epilogue | Author’s Notes]

[Thank you to those who suggested names! All suggested names will appear in the story. ‘Tam’ was chosen because the name meaning (twin) was, coincidentally, a perfect fit.]

[Please read the instructions before jumping in!]

Tam woke up knowing what would be waiting for him downstairs: His parents, his twin brother Ashton, and the identical pancake stacks that his parents made them every year for their birthday breakfast. It was their first cake of the day, they always joked, stacking them like tiers and icing them with maple butter.

They’d end their day with cake as well. The pancakes were for Ashton, who had been born a few minutes earlier, and the dessert cake was for Tam, the second twin.

It was tradition, and maybe one that would end soon—at twenty-one, both he and his brother knew they’d probably move out sooner rather than later. But Tam was determined to keep it alive as long as possible. They’d both got into the same university, right here in Branwin, Ontario, so they were planning to room together when they eventually moved out.

No reason not to carry the tradition on by themselves. Tam could get up early and make Ash his cake, and Ash could make one for Tam in the evenings.

He flung on his clothes for the day, jeans and an already well-worn t-shirt with the logo of his favorite band on it. Trying to get his mess of dirty blond hair in some semblance of order, he combed fingers loosely through it, squinting at himself in the mirror as he tried to make it lie flat. The sunny summer was already starting to bring out his freckles; it was one of the few ways to differentiate him from his brother. Ash never freckled, which they’d always both found a little weird; the only mark he’d ever had were the five flat brown moles on the bend of his arm that looked like fingerprints.

Ready now, Tam thumped his way downstairs.

But he knew something was wrong before he even reached the first floor.

The lack of any kind of baking scent was the first sign, but so was the quiet. His first thought was, absurdly, that maybe he’d woken up before everyone else. It wasn’t the first time that he’d gotten up to find that his clock was set wrong; both the summer thunderstorms and leyline spikes had taken the power out in the past. It was just one of the risks of living so close to the Uncanny Valley.

But the colour of the sunlight streaming in told him otherwise. It was late morning already, and even if Ash had slept in, their parents would be up and getting things ready.

“Uh, guys?” Tam called. Weirdly uncomfortable, he turned the corner into the kitchen.

As he’d thought, his parents were up, but they weren’t cooking anything, and no breakfast was set out at the table. They were sitting there, though, frowning at him, lines of worry between their brows.

“Hey,” Tam’s dad Eric said, uncomfortably. “Take a seat. There’s something we have to tell you.”

Tam didn’t sit. He couldn’t, that feeling of anticipation and nerves grown almost nauseating. He couldn’t eat now even if they had prepared something. “Is it important? I can go get Ashton—”

“Your brother isn’t going to come home any more,” Alice, their mother, said abruptly. She put this awful smile on her face, like she was trying to be reassuring, but her eyes were hard. “I’m sorry, Tam. We always hoped this day wouldn’t come.”

His world spun. Had Ash run away? Had something happened to him in the night? He had been out late, Tam remembered, celebrating his birthday with some friends from his job in the library down in the Valley, but Tam had seen him come home. They’d waved an equally drunken goodbye to each other on the landing.

“What… do you mean?” Tam asked slowly. He fumbled a chair out with numb hands, sinking into it. His legs felt like bloated balloons at the end of his legs, and he thought if he had to stay on them they’d crumple underneath him.

His parents looked at each other and held hands. Normally, the gesture seemed romantic; they always were the sort who had secrets between them that their children weren’t privy to. Now, it was alienating, a barrier to keep him out.

“You know, when Alice was pregnant,” Eric said, “that’s when the Valley opened.”

Of course Tam knew. The Valley might have been a constant presence in his life, but everyone knew the story of its opening, the gate to the monstrous Otherworld cracking open in the middle of Branwin, space warping around it to form a space not quite Otherworld, but not quite their world either. Branwin’s Valley was only one of hundreds of these gates that opened in the world—a world still adapting to its reality.

“You have to understand how scary it was for us,” Alice said. “I was pregnant, and we’d just put so much money down on our house, and then the Valley opened up just blocks away from our new place. We couldn’t afford to move, and nobody would buy even if we could. All sorts of man-eating monsters were roaming around. So… well, we made a deal for safety.”

“A deal,” Tam heard himself croak.

Eric sighed, holding up his free hand as if to forestall an argument. It was a gesture that he did when he felt one of his boys was being unreasonable, and one that Tam felt had no place here. “Safety from the denizens of the Uncanny Valley for us and our children. In return, the witch wanted our first-born child on the night of his twenty-first birthday.”

“But—”

“We knew we were having twins,” Alice said. “The witch didn’t, I don’t think. We thought that maybe it would be a loophole, that there wouldn’t be an eldest child. Or, if there was… well, at least we’d still have a child left.”

Tam’s breath was strangling in his throat.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Alice pleaded, but her gaze was still hard. Tam could only assume she’d been preparing for this betrayal his entire life. “You have to understand you weren’t people then.”

“We’ve done our best,” Eric said, “to give you both a good life for as long as you’d have it.”

[Please suggest an action in the Comments.
As a reminder, it can be thoughts, words, or deeds!]

[Completed Parts: Instructions | Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 | Day 11 | Day 12 | Day 13 | Day 14 | Day 15 | Day 16 | Day 17 | Day 18 | Day 19 | Day 20 | Day 21 | Day 22 | Day 23 | Day 24 | Day 25 | Day 26 | Day 27 | Day 28 | Day 29 | Day 30 | Epilogue | Author’s Notes]

Į̺̩̥̻̠t͉̦̩’̸̭̝̱̲s̸͈ ̲̟̭͍t̨̗̣̖̰̱̣ͅh̩̼̹̩̙̠à͎͖̩͙t̨̲̲ ̝̤ṯ͕͖̞̖͎̖i̤̺̝m̡e͈ ̮̩̀ơ̮̝̙f̭͖̠͈̱ ̬y̘̰͝e̜͈͙̙a̼̙͞r̙͈̳ͅ ҉̺̲̯͓͕͉ḁg̛̪͖̭̱̭̘ͅa͙͖̰̤̥̟i̧͕n̠͓̳̤͓.̢̦͙ ̠̮͕S̶̞̗̖h̖͕a̮͇̼͉͈̰l͏̩̯͙l͈͈̤̻ ͉͇̜͈̰̦w̤̠͈̻̠͖ḙ͉͇̝́ ́p͎͉̪̰̯l͇͇͙̖̫̘͍ą̼͙̱̥͔͙y̢̝̻̝ ̖̻̥a͙̲ ̵̮g͢a̼̘͟m̴̩̮͍̟e̺̖̟̪̹̺̕?̲̦̤̤̬͎

As with last year’s October story, Septimus and Sweet, I thought it’d be fun to celebrate Halloween together with a little bit of fun interactive fiction! This year’s fiction will be a m/m paranormal story about a young man who lives near to a known rift to the world that monsters come from.

Here’s how it works:

Tomorrow (Oct 2) I’ll put up the introduction to a story, describing the situation the character finds himself in. Then, you can click to reply to the post’s comments and leave a suggestion for what the character should do next! Basically, you’re an invisible audience shouting things at the screen–but the things you’re yelling will help influence the character’s actions.

Examples of what suggestions might look like: “Examine the mirror” or “break the vase” or “Don’t give up!! Think about your family!”

Get your comments in by no later than 5pm PST the next day. Then, between 5pm-9pm PST (approximately; on some nights I have other commitments it might be a lil earlier or later), I will put up the next part of the story. A new post will go up every day until Halloween!

If contradictory actions are suggested by different people (“Break the vase” and “take the vase with you”, for example), decisions on which to go with will be based on a) which gets more suggestions and b) which is more in line with the protagonist’s personality as established so far. ‘Think’ actions will usually never be contradictory and can include anything you want him to think about, with the exception of a) things he won’t know or b) if it’s in the middle of an action sequence since he might not want to stop and think about unrelated things right then. But in general, you can suggest whatever you want, even if it isn’t relevant. For example, “what do you look like, though?” could be a suggestion just as much as anything else—you are more than welcome to use your comment to learn more about the character(s) as well as advance the story.

(If you want to see how it works, take a read of the first couple of parts of Septimus and Sweet).

New people are completely welcome to jump in on the most recent post at any time–don’t feel like you have to be there from the start to play! Of course, if you’re jumping in late, I suggest reading the previous parts just so you’re caught up on what’s been done so far.

Ready? If so, feel free to comment to this post with NAME SUGGESTIONS for the protagonist! He’s 20 and lives in a world much like our own, except for the monsters. (I can only use one name, so if people like an already-suggested name, please comment to repeat that name suggestion. However, additional suggested names may be used for other characters throughout the story).

(The small text: I reserve all rights to this work. If I eventually get this published in any form and need to take this down, I will send copies of this online version, with comments people left intact, to everyone who contributed suggestions (if I am reasonably able to get in contact with them).)

Please Suggest a Name

[Completed Parts: Instructions | Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 | Day 11 | Day 12 | Day 13 | Day 14 | Day 15 | Day 16 | Day 17 | Day 18 | Day 19 | Day 20 | Day 21 | Day 22 | Day 23 | Day 24 | Day 25 | Day 26 | Day 27 | Day 28 | Day 29 | Day 30 | Epilogue | Author’s Notes]