October 19th, 2005

I turned 13 not too long ago. I still reside in Kensington Palace with my father, Prince Alfred, and his new wife Helena Parker, Duchess of York. I knew my father would move on eventually, considering he already was separated from my mother before her passing. It is just strange seeing another woman in the home, telling me what to do and she’s not my mother. I try my hardest to be nice, since my father had to trust her a great deal to keep our family secret about me. However, the only good that came into our house is the housekeeper. Father spent months trying to find the perfect and trustworthy person to watch me and the palace while he was aware. Since he couldn’t be bothered with staying home with me. Caroline is never home and Frederick announced to us that he will be joining the Blue and Royals in January next year.

Ms. Lea is such a sweetheart. When mother passed away, I didn’t expect to find another mother like figure and Helena was sure not doing her part. Ms. Lea has continued to teach me the way mother did, provide me with entertainment, she even took me to the park one day and we were not seen or question. Father was sure unhappy about that ordeal, but it was quite an experience and most defiantly worth it! I had a lot to learn from her and I am grateful for her presence.

Speaking of which, I hear Ms. Lea now walking up the staircase to my bedroom. Ms. Lea knocks on my door softly and pokes her head in, “Miss Amalie, would you like some breakfast? Afterwards we can work on your reading, shall we?” She asks me with a warm smile plastered on her face. Her green eyes matched with her blonde hair and her soft middle aged smile where you could see tiny wrinkles beginning to form in her cheeks and under her eyes. She wore her usually black formal outfit that father said would keep her professional. Her hair was in a bun that rested in the middle of her scalp ever so neatly. I dearly admired her for she resembled a lot of my mother, just with longer hair.

I follow Ms. Lea into the dining room, the same dining room where the news of my mother was delivered to me. I sit down and stare at the plate of deliciousness that Ms. Lea had kindly prepared for me. She sat across from me with her hands folded, smiling and patiently waiting for me to finish my breakfast. I slowly start to eat.

“Thank you, Ms. Lea. You know how much I cherish your homemade meals even for a daily breakfast.” I smile and take another bite of her freshly cooked pork sausage, tomatoes, fried bread, and runny yolk eggs.

This was quite a lot to eat, but Amalie was the kind of person who ate quite a bit of food for all three meals.

“Ms. Lea,” Amalie says while staring at her plate with her fork poking her eggs.

“Yes dear, what is it?” Ms. Lea questions as she looks up from doing the cross word, pen still in her hand almost in the same position as Amalie and her fork.

“Father is having a parade today. Him, grandmother, grandfather, and my siblings are going to be a part of it. Of course, I am aware I must stay inside, but I was wondering – “Ms. Lea cuts her off.

“You wanted to go, didn’t you dear. You are aware of how your father reacted when he found out I simply snuck you off to the park, right?” She asks me and I respond with a small nod. “Then, how about this time we don’t get caught?” Ms. Lea smiles at me and I feel my whole body lift with glee. I am actually going outside again, not to just see a swan at a park, but to witness the Royal parades. I get to be around other people. “Finish your eggs dear, then we will go figure out our plan for today.”

A while later, Ms. Lea and I gather onto my bedroom floor together to discuss how we are going to get me at the parade so that I will not be seen by any of my family members.

“Obviously, all of your current clothes are very expensive and can give off the same style most Royals have.” Ms. Lea states while she looks up at my closet.

“Wait, are you saying I can’t wear my clothes? My clothes will give me away? What shall I wear then?” I ask, frantically.

“Relax, dearie. You have a few items in here that, when put together, can pass off as just your average civilian. My trench coat covers my uniform, so no one shall question.” She stands up and walks towards my closet. She slides all the hangers over, digging into the back direction of my closet. I am not even sure what all is back there. She pulls out a small red flannel and shows it to me. “Perfect, it is casual and Royal families are rarely seen in a flannel shirt.” She also pulls out a simple black winter coat, dark sunglasses to cover my eyes, and a black winter tassel cap with a puffy end to cover my head. Ms. Lea walks over and carefully lays the articles of clothing onto my bed. “Just leave your hair down, dear. Don’t do anything special to it that could draw attention. Come find me when you are done.” She leaves my bedroom where I proceed to get change. So much could go wrong, yet this feels so right to finally get the change to be in public.

Ms. Lea pulls her coat over her shoulders as we stand by the front door. She bends down and slides my sunglasses on, resting them gently behind my ears and she pulls the cap down, making sure that it has a snug fit. “We are going to walk down into town just down the street, I brought you passed it before, and then call for a London Taxi, that way no one from your family will be able to recognize the car.” She takes my hand and opens the front door.

We walk up the Kensington Palace Gardens, passed the Embassies of many nations. When we arrive at the end of the street, Ms. Lea takes my hand to carefully guide me across the busy London interstate. On the opposite side of the road sat Palace Gardens Terrace, which was a bus stop. “This is where we shall wait for a cab.” She states and pulls out her mobile. I turn around and look at the busy streets of rushed and daily shoppers all exiting or entering the various shopping centers and restaurants. This is all really crazy to me, yet this is just a normal life for everyone else. How strange?

“My,” I say aloud. “it sure looks as if everyone is awfully busy. Who in the right mind would want to spend their day feeling rushed and being in all these crowds of strangers?” I glance up at Ms. Lea and she smiles.

“My dear, these people don’t feel rushed all the time. This is simply how you get things done, including your family. It can get bizarre some days, today isn’t even that bad.” She looks over her shoulder to take a view at the busy shopping street behind him.

Shortly after, the cab pulls up and Ms. Lea steps ahead to open the door for me. I slid in. The seats are worn down; the driver is an average London man. None of this compares to what it is like riding with a driver, which I occasionally get to do when I have to go on a stay away with my family, but it has been years since I’ve been able to leave the Palace. The windows in are car are tinted like a limousine that was photographers cannot get a glimpse of us in private or dare get any shots of me.

“Whitehall, City of Westminster. Please.” Ms. Lea directs to the driver and he nods his head. I keep my head door in fear he could possibly recognize me, yet it is very unlikely.

The drive is fast; it doesn’t seem to take that long as I see us passing by Buckingham Palace. We take a left at the Elizabeth Tower, which I have only seen but a few times in life and there are others who see it every day just glancing out their window. Up ahead I see Whitehall, Trooping the Colour parade ground. All the horse guards are present. This parade is considered a Horse Guard Parade including the rest of the members of the Buckingham Royal Family, also known as my family. The driver pulls off on the side of the road, making Whitehall just across the street. Ms. Lea opens the door and holds it for me while I crawl out of the seats, my glasses almost slipping off my nose. I make sure my hat is pulled down, glasses are secure. Ms. Lea does the same thing to herself that way Father has no chance of recognizing her. We will be sure to leave the parade before it is completely over to beat the rush and get past my family.

Ms. Lea takes my hand and we cross the road together to join the crowd on the other side. My heart is racing for two reasons. One of them being the rush of my presences within a large crowd full of strangers that could question me at any given moment and the other reason is I am so ecstatic to be out in public!

“Stand on the side of me, a little bit behind me. That shall cover you from being completely plain obvious. You should still be able to see.” Ms. Lea instructs me. My left side stands behind Ms. Lea while the rest of me is pushed between others. I can still see the horse guards and I can see the carriages that my family will ride.

Sure enough, I see my father and his new wife climb into one carriage, my grandmother and grandfather into another carriage, and my siblings into the other one. I smile wide at the fact that I am watching them and they have no idea. However, my heart aches because I should be on the carriage with my brother and sister, if only I were normal.

“It is a real shame. Poor Princess Margaret should be on there, not that unknown lady. She went too soon.” I hear the man behind me make a comment on my mother and my heart drops, but I wasn’t allowed to cry or have any reaction because no one can really know my emotional attachment to my mother because to them, I am not her daughter.

The Horse and Queen Guards start their routine and everyone is watching in amazement, including myself. The woman beside me starts to move closer to me because there are more people trying to squeeze their way in. I try to keep myself against Ms. Lea. She stops moving and I relax, until whoever was beside the woman proceeds to push into her and she fell into me. I pushed my way passed Ms. Lea and I felt my face hit the concrete of Whitehall. My glasses came off and slid under the legs of other people. My hat became crooked on my head and I laid there for what seemed like forever in a paralyzing fear to move because what was keeping me hidden from my family has fallen off of me. I feel Ms. Lea’s hands under my arms and she helps me stand up while I try my best to keep my head down.

“It’s okay. This was a bad idea. We should go now before someone notices you.” I begin to cry. This is not fair, I should be up there and now I can’t even watch my own family’s parade. Ms. Lea takes my hand and leads me through the crowd with my head down low.

“Oh my gosh, honey.” I hear come from a man, I look to my right to see the parade as I thought something might have happened. “What a striking resemblance to Margaret.” I then turn to meet his eyes and sure enough he was staring right down at me. The woman next to him looks right at me too and my heart pounds. “Wasn’t Margaret pregnant about a decade ago, but was said to have lost the baby. You don’t think-“ She says to the man.

“Ms. Lea, we have to go now.” I tug on Ms. Lea’s sleeve to hurry up.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and it grabs the back of my jacket. “Margaret has a daughter!” The man yelled at the top of his lungs while he clenched to my coat. I hurry and take my jacket off, leaving it in his hand as I run past everyone in the crowd, losing Ms. Lea. I turn down the street and keep running towards Elizabeth Tower.

I don’t know where I am going.

October 1st, 2005

Everyone probably wonders what happened to the princess that was caught after 13 years in hiding. Nothing really happened, besides my father putting me on permanent lock down and barely speaking words to me. Worst of all, he fired Ms. Lea and held her responsible for releasing such a “dark” secret.

July 11th, 2005

“Both of you! You brought pure disgrace to this royal family. This wouldn’t have been such a catastrophe if you would’ve done this dumb plan of yours sooner. Now, the press is on me for thirteen years of hiding my ‘secret daughter’” My father Alfred yelled as Ms. Lea and I stand by the door entrance. It was almost like we were both kids getting scolded at, except this was a legal matter. Ms. Lea caught me while I ran away from the parade yesterday. My father didn’t come home that night until just a few moments ago. This was the talk I dreaded for a whole 10 hours. “I need to go figure out how I am supposed to explain your mother and I’s actions for hiding you from the press. Leanne, you’re fired. You caused too much for the very own Royal Family. Amalie and you can say Goodbye quickly, but when I get back I do not want to see you around any of our properties again!” My father storms out and I look over the Ms. Lea who has a clear tear streak running down her face. This is all my fault; I gave her the idea.

“Ms. Lea, I am so so sorry. I did not want you to lose your job. You can’t leave me, please. I need you!” I plead for her and put my hands around her forearms. I begin to feel tears running down my own face.

“Dear, do not blame yourself for my decisions. You are a strong young lady; you do not need me. In fact, you do not anyone to be great. You just push through until you can get away from all of this royalty business and begin a new life away from the secrets. See things you have never seen before, go to the United States if you want. You don’t ever have to see London again if you do not want to. In five years, none of this will matter and you can be your own person.” Ms. Lea gives me those words that I know I will hold close to me for a long time. “Margaret, your mother, would want you to do anything to make sure life is the way you want.” Ms. Lea gives me a small kiss on my forehead and hugs me tightly. I can smell the perfume that became such a frequent smell, knowing this would be the last time I would ever smell it again.”

October 1st, 2005

I don’t know what Ms. Lea became after she walked out my front door. Her words are the only thing keeping me from getting out of bed and starting a new day. She told me all I have to do is wait five years and I can be my own person I always wanted to be. But, what if I can’t wait five years. Who says I can’t be my own person starting right now?

In fact, her words kept me from staying in bed because I started researching what I could possibly do to get myself out of London. The only time anyone has seen my face was the day of the parade almost two months ago, no one managed to get a clear photograph and only those at the parade managed to see me. I could walk outside right now and most likely not be recognized. I am determined to make this my last day in London, but I am not entirely sure where I plan on going. I am only 13, I do not want more legal trouble. My father has a safe of what he calls donation money in his bedroom, it is just down the hall and he is currently not home.

I sneak down the hallway and slowly push open the door to the master bedroom. It has more extra space than needed, it seems so empty. Mother had so much furniture in here, but Father removed it shortly after she died. Also, his new woman concluded it was too much clutter. I see the safe in the corner of the room. There is a pass code on it and for the life of me I can’t come up with anything that could possibly be the four-digit code. I sit down in front of it with my legs crossed, preparing to try any combination I could think of.

0-6-0-2, my birthday. WRONG. 1-1-1-4, my father’s birthday. WRONG. I sigh in disbelief. I continue to try both of my brother and sisters’ birthdays, googling Helena’s birthday, their wedding anniversary. All were wrong. I stand there staring at the pass code pad. I straighten up at the thought of an idea. I highly doubt this will work, but I shall try anything. 7-1-8-1. CORRECT. I can’t believe it as the green light flashes and the latch releases. He used my mother’s birthday as his pass code when he could’ve changed it. I couldn’t help but feel a small smile erupt from the corners of my mouth.

Inside sits a briefcase. As I unlatch it, my eyes are met with a few hundred thousand pounds, all neatly laid out and placed in an even manner. It would be quite strange for a teenager to be seen with a briefcase. I run to my room and grab my bag. I come back and begin sitting most of the money into my floral patterned bag. Not all of it, I do not have the heart to take all of their money. Despite my father’s net worth. I return the case to the safe and gently shut it. I leave the room just as I left it and head back towards my own bedroom. I must finish with all the clothes I can carry or wear.

I stand by the front door, careful that the housekeeper does not see me in the mist of my runaway plan. I pull my phone out and do just as Ms. Lea did. I call a cab. The company assures there is one coming, I have them meet me at the end of this street to not raise suspicion that I am coming from the Kensington Palace. I slowly creep out the front door and make a bee line across the courtyard with my head down low, just in case someone may be able to see me from one of the money windows. Once I am out of the view of the Palace, I run faster and stand up straighter, with my very heavy bag draped across my shoulders. I am wearing bulky sunglasses; my hair is pulled into a tight bun sitting perfectly on my head. I rarely ever pull my hair up, but that will be the point. It could make it harder to recognize me.

I see the cab waiting for me at the corner. I keep my head down as I cross the street and open the back door of the cab.

"Hi, young lady. Where might I be taking you today?" The young man in the drivers seat beams me a nice smile. 

"LCY Airport, please. I am visiting family, very excited." I respond in the most calm and normal voice I could manage. The driver looks at me through the rear view mirror and tips his hat while meeting my eyes. I continue to stare out the window on the ride to the airport, just like I was as Ms. Lea and I were riding to the parade.

The ride was a dreadful forty five minutes, but I managed to come up with a slight plan on what I shall do once I leave this cab. It is coming close to reaching noon. The driver pulls up to the curb at the front entrance and I get out.

"Enjoy your visit, Miss." He tips his hat again and then pulls away from the curb. I turn and walk through the sliding doors into the large London airport. I really can't believe I am doing this, I could turn back. Deal with everything.

No, this is not what mother thought would be best. Ms. Lea made me realize that.

Walking through the sliding glass doors into a building full of people either leaving the airport or most appear to be getting ready for a Holiday getaway. I clench my bag tightly, I have never been so nervous about something before.

I follow the signs where anyone would purchase a ticket and walk up to the counter with a kind looking young woman.

"Hi ma'am," I greet her as I set my bag down against my legs. She smiles down at me. "My mom and dad are having me visit my grandparents in America and I need a ticket." I inform her. She nods and starts typing into her computer.

"Where will you be going?" She asks.

"America." I stare at her with a blank look. I've already mentioned this.

"Sweetheart, you know there are states in the United States of America. Which one will you be heading to?" She asks while looking extremely puzzled. I pull out my phone and immediately  look up 'State with the most population' more people means more help and I might not be alone. California has 36 million residents. That could work.

"California." I slowly try to pronounce and smile at her. She raises her eyebrow back at me.

"Right, I have one ticket here for £297.81 in route to Los Angeles, California. Your boarding time is 1:35 and your scheduled arrival time is around 2:30 in the morning." She brings up the total on the computer. I unzip my bag, just a little bit and pull out a £500 money clip. I pull three hundred pounds out and hand it over to her. With an impressed expression, she takes it.

She hands me my ticket and informs me to go to gate B. I thank her and pick up my bag.

Making my way through security was not as difficult as I expected it to be. I got through it as just another normal child and I am on my way to the gate to make my flight in just a few moments.  After about a few good minutes of waiting, I hear them begin to board. This was it. This is what it was always meant to be like. I'm free.

It is really hard to find something to do on an almost twelve hour flight. I tried to sleep, but it is quite uncomfortable and it was in the middle of the day. That was my first plane ride ever, I expected it to be more exciting. However, it was dreadful and not what I had hoped for at all.

Now, here is the downside. I am about to get off this plane at an unknown city in an unknown state, that I had to google before getting here, in a whole other country at 2:06 in the morning. I did scrap up a plan though during my long trip. I will exit this plane and honestly I don't know where to go from there. I didn't think this through and now I am scared. I am 13, I am alone, I am in a whole other country where people don't even have the same accent as me.

People begin to stand up and shuffle towards the front of the plane, so that they can exit. I slowly stand up and sling my bag over my shoulder. I squeeze into the aisle and move my way in the same direction as everyone else. Everyone looks extremely tired, but if one were to look at my face. I look so petrified, I can feel my expression. I'm replaying the question, asking myself why I did this. It's too late.

I walk down the connecting hallway between the plane and the gate to the airport. One I step through the gate, it really seems like a whole other world here. Everyone is dressed differently, more trendy outfits. People have loss of my British accent and some of these words are puzzling to me. I follow the signs that are labeled EXIT. I don't know where I am going. Maybe I can find a motel or a guest house to rest for just the night.

"Hi!" I hear a chirpy voice behind me, I step out of the way assuming this person is talking to someone around me. A young girl, around my age steps in front of me. She's talking to me, if I speak she will know I am fro England. Can I pull an American accent?

"Hey." I saw back quickly, without my British sound.

"Where did you just board from? I came from Pennsylvania. I saw you weren't with anyone. I thought you could use a friend." She continues to talk and walk alongside me, my head stays down low. I don't know why I am still so scared about getting recognized. This young girl is not going to know about a Princess that was just discovered in England a few months ago. "Are you sure? That's okay. I was too until I learned being vocal means making more friends. My name is Makayla. I'm 12." Alright, this girl is a year younger than me. I wonder if she's like me.

"Where's your family?" I ask her, still not meeting her gaze. I still have yet to look at her long enough to get an understanding on what she looks like.

"My family.. they are gone. There's a youth home here in California. They reached out to me and funded me to fly out here so that I can be taken care of and have a home again." Her words make me stop in my tracks. Home? Is it free? Could I stay there?

"Youth home? What is that?" I ask her, finally looking at her. She had short black, curly hair that only went down to the top of her neck. She had a round face, taller than me. She had only very old worn down clothes, something I rarely saw in England only from the lower class citizens. My jeans alone were about £400.

"Oh, it is kinda like a shelter. It's for kids who don't have parents, but do not want placed in a foster system. There's no one to adopt you. There's people that take care of you and help you grow up. You live there until you're 18, then they will help you find a place and a job or some higher education." She explains to me as much as she could. It sounds safe.

"My parents died." I lied to her. "I flew out here myself, I needed a place to stay. Honestly, I was scared because I didn't think I had a place to go." I explain to her, hoping she will invite me to go with her. I am desperate to be anywhere.

"Oh, I am sorry. I didn't catch your name? How old are you anyways?" She asks. My name, I don't want anyone to recognize my name. I have to be careful.

"Adaline..Adaline Andrews. I'm 13." I hold my hand out towards her. She raises her eyebrows and then laughs, taking my hand and shaking it. It must not be common for children to participate in handshakes in America.

"Adaline, come with me to meet Mr. Williams. We can explain your story and I am positive he will let you come with us. Their policy is care first, questions later." She holds your arm out.

"What are you doing?" I ask her, staring at her bent up.

"You're supposed to link your arm into mine and we can walk beside each other." I nod my head, pretending I forgot. Don't assume people do not do this in England, they probably do. However, I have never talked to anyone my own age before or close to it besides my siblings. Let alone, a possible friend. If that's what she's going to be.

I link my arm into hers and we walk towards the man I hope will lead me to a better future.

November 23rd , 2005

If you're wondering, the Los Angeles Youth Home did allow me to stay with them and lately, for once in my life. I feel safe. Yes, Makayla is my best friend since I moved in to LAYH. We are walking into the Whole Foods Market to pick up some extra ingredients to have for Thanksgiving tomorrow. This will be my first Holidays in America. I miss my brother and sister, but that's about. Ms. Lea too.

"I am really happy we get to spend the next few years together." Makayla beams as she grabs a cart from the front. There's a lot I had to learn about America and being out in public all together by myself, I didn't want Makayla to know my sheltered past. Also, turns out Makayla and I are the same age. We celebrated her birthday on the 21st.

Makayla and I finish out shopping, we both grab some snacks that neither of us have tried. Some that are exclusively from California. Little does she know, I haven't tried most of what is in our cabinets at home.

We finish our shopping and go to check out. I had the money that Henry, Mr. Williams, gave to us. He is a nice young man with a generous wife, Maria.

"Your total is $44.93." The cashier says. I look at her puzzled and then I look at Makayla who was picking up our shopping bags. I lean over the counter a little.

"Excuse me. How much is that? I only know pounds currency." I whisper to her and hold out the money in my hands. No one ever explained how to read the new currency. I still have the loads of money from my father's safe. I learned I can't use that here.

"Pounds?" Makayla overheard me when I hope she didn't. She takes the money from my hands and pulls out the correct amount. We take our change and leave the store.

"Pounds? You said you were from New York. You're not allowed to lie to your best friend." Makayla confronts me outside of the store in the hot streets of Los Angeles. The past month and a half I have hidden my British accent fairly well. She's right, I think I can trust her like I could trust Ms. Lea. I should tell her the truth.

"Promise me this is just between us. Please. Do not tell Henry or Maria. Just you and me." I ask her and hold up my pinky. She taught me pinky promises and now it is our thing to trust each other. She twists her pinky with mine. I change my accent back to my normal one. "I was born in London, United Kingdom." I pause and think about how much of the truth is safe to tell her. "My father and I didn't get along very well after my mother passed away. So, I fled. I didn't even know what California was while on the plane to come here. I just paid for a ticket to America. I said I had grandparents here."

Makayla's face was in complete shock. I don't blame her. Her best friend just turned British. "That explains so much." She finally says. "You always seemed so confused by such basic things, even an iced latte from Starbucks. That is so not American." She laughs and I laugh with her. "O M G!" She squeals. "I can teach you how to be American. This will be so fun!" She hugs me tightly and I smile.

December 24th , 2005

I sit on the couch with Makayla and a few other kids that stay in the house with us. There are a total of 8, including Makayla and I staying in this house. We all we given Christmas pajamas. The fire place is roaring and we are all talking about our first Christmas together is tomorrow.

"This is your first American Christmas!" Makayla whispers to me. I smile at her. This is already a whole let better than any other Christmas. They were okay when my mother was around. But, Father was not a big fan of the holidays.

January 1st , 2006 Midnight

"Happy New Years!" All eight of us children with Maria and Henry beside us yell as we watch the ball drop in New York City, Times Square. Who would've known, Americans get a kick out of a ginormous ball falling down a pole as a countdown for entering the new year.

Makayla hugs me and we fall onto the couch, filled with laughter.

June 15th, 2008

"Would you stop freaking out, Adaline? You are going to pass your drivers test. Just, try not to drive on the left side of the road." Makayla jokes as she pats my back walking into the Los Angeles DMV.

"Aren't you just hilarious?" I remark.

March 12th 2010

"Can you actually believe it? We are graduating soon!" I turn around to Makayla in our bedroom.

"What? Didn't think you would become an American Graduate." She jokes while scrolling through her phone. No, not exactly. She doesn't know that I wasn't able to even attend a public school for a huge part of my life, I never expected myself to be graduating from one. I love Makayla, she is my best friend. But, some things are better off remaining a secret, it will just make things much more complicated.

I smile and nod, so she never suspects anything.

December 21 , 2010

Makayla hulls another large box into the doorway of our apartment. I'm sitting on top of some of my boxes, still trying to gather my breath. She walks back out into the hallway.

"You know," She comes back inside with a smaller box. "It was really nice of Henry and Maria to find this apartment for us that we can afford, but couldn't they have helped us move in? We are on the fourth floor."

I stand up and walk over to Makayla and take the heavy box from her arms and set it down. "They took care of us for free for five years, I think we can do this part." I laugh a little and look at her.

"You are right, but at least we got the TV set up! No couch yet, but we can just lay on top of the uncrushable boxes." She walks into the living room. I smile and shake my head as I bend down to open up the box of items from back home.

"Five years have gone by, still no sign of the Royal Family's daughter." The words from the TV ring through my ears. No. No. I stand up, sharply and rush into the living room. Makayla is standing in front of the TV with the remote in her hand.

"Can you believe that? She is still missing." Makayla says and glances over at me. My heart is racing.

"You know about this?" I ask and cross my arms as I lean against the door frame.

"Only a little bit. I think she was around our age so I thought it was kinda cool." Cool? She thinks me running away was cool? Part of me just wants to scream it was me, but more of me just wants to turn off the TV and go do something else.

"Amalie has been reported missing since October 1st, 2005. Her Father, Alfred still desperately hopes to regain connection after the huge secret of her existence was revealed at the end of summer in 2005." I clench my fists as my Father comes on the screen with his wife. It's a live interview. I can tell by the time stamp at the bottom of the TV.

"I believe she was taken by someone who may have had a fascination with her late mother. Except, this is a Royal Family member, how could they have gotten away this long with her. I have suspects to believe whoever may have taken my daughter has fled to a foreign country." Well, he's got most right except the fact that no one took me and I left willingly.

"Wait." Makayla's voice interrupts my thoughts. "The first of October, that is when I got on a plane from Pennsylvania to here. I met you only a few hours later. You, who came from London. You, who has an abusive dad and a dead mom." She turns around and meets my eyes, which I can feel have a petrified look to them. Makayla turns off the TV and drops the remote to the floor. "Talk." She crosses her arms.

I let out a sigh, "Alfred is my father. Margaret was my mother. For thirteen years, I lived in Keningston Palace. Only Keningston Palace. I have a brain complication called Hydrocephalus, the reason for my abnormally large forehead we used to joke about. That wasn't normal for our family, everyone was expected to very close to perfect. So, Keningston Palace was where I remained. The only contact I had was a few members of my family. I never attended school, my mother taught me until the day she died. I had a nanny, she taught me like my mother did." I try my best to explain such a long past in a few sentences. Makayla is sitting there in disbelief.

"So, wait. Why did you leave? You left just because you were stuck inside of a Palace?" She asks me.

"My mother made that Palace. Not literally, but she kept it alive. Without her, father changed, my siblings changed, my whole world changed. The rules were more strict. Yes, it was a beautiful palace. But, after spending thirteen whole years in there, the large ballrooms turn into a prison cell. In 2005, I made the stupid decision of sneaking into a Royal Parade, it was my second time really out in public. I got bumped into and because of my resemblance to Margaret, I was almost immediately recognized." Makayla rests her hand on top of mine.

"You should've told me." She tells me, I can feel tears running down my face.

"How do I even tell my best friend that I ran away from a Monarchy." I question her and she hugs me tightly.

"You're 18. They can't make you go back. Reconnect with them. If not your father, then your siblings. They didn't do anything, they were just born into this problem that your parents enforced. I am sure they miss their little sister." I look at her as if she is insane. Reconnect? The media will be all over us. If there was a for sure way to do so in private.

Wait.

"I was going to yell at you for introducing such a bad idea, but actually I might have a plan to get the media off of our backs and I can go back to living a life without worrying of being discovered." I turn around and rush towards the box filled with my old things. I find my old phone and the charger and quickly plug it into the wall.

"I don't know what in the world you are planning, but there's only one thing going through my mind." Makayla stands over me.

"What? How I'm a Royal Runaway?" I joke.

"No, your name is Amalie?"

January 13th, 2011 London, United Kingdom (LCY)

"Oh boy, last time I was here I was a little thirteen year old girl with no idea what the word California was." I say and pull my bag up my shoulder and put on my sunglasses.

"So, let's go over the plan again." Makayla suggests.

"I got in touch with my old nanny, Ms. Lea. She is going to meet us over at the town across from Keningston Palace. There's a guard at the Palace who she still has close relations to. We are going to meet up with her, the guard will sneak us into the back into the garden house. He will then inform my father and siblings there is something he needs to see in the garden. I will explain everything to them and hopefully, if my father has some kind of heart and the media doesn't see us, he can tell them I am okay and that he got in touch with me. That will make everyone stop looking for me." I take a deep breath after my explanation.

Makayla shakes her head and puts her sunglasses on too. "This is a long shot, Adaline." I nod my head in agreement.

Urban Meadow Cafe & Bar, London (1:58 PM)

"The weather here is horrible. How did you even deal with it?" Makayla asks as she stands there shivering.

"I never left the house." I turn and look at her. We both burst out laughing.

"Well, I hate to interrupt the laughter, but I think it's time for a little reunion here." I hear a familiar voice and I open my eyes to see an older lady in a black fur coat with a long brim hat.

"Ms. Lea?" I ask.

"Dear, you can call me Leanne now." She takes off her sunglasses and I am greeted with the same eyes I grew up looking at. I run to her and hug her ever so tightly. It brought back a sense of my mother and it made me feel warm inside. "My, you have grown into such a beautiful, young lady. Just like Margaret." Leanne puts her hands on the sides of my face. "And who's this?"

"Leanne, this Makayla Well. We have been best friends since the day I arrived in America. She's the one who convinced me to do this." I smile and put my arm around Makayla.

"How sweet. Well, we best get going loves. This is going to be a hit or miss." Leanne motions us to walk down the street together.

We arrive at the edge of the Keningston Gates. I see the guard standing a little further down.

"Charlie, is everything ready?" Leanne asks as Charlie slowly approaches. He nods his head and opens up the Garden entrance for us. We all walk in and down the stone path towards the Garden House. My mother used to bring me in here when I was little and we spent so much time planting new flowers that she found at the market earlier that day.

"You all shall wait in this spot while I go fetch the King and others." Charlie informs.

"Whatever happens today, just know I am never leaving your side. Even if it means you are forced to live here or something." Makayla reassures me and puts her hand on my arm. I mouth the words 'Thank you' and do my best to hold back the tears.

We hear the door open at the other end of the room and my heart stops. I don't know if I can do this.

"This better be good. You do know how much we all do not like entering this area after Margaret-" I see my father stop in his tracks in the middle of his sentence. "Amalie.." He breathes.

"Father." I say back to him. I see my brother and sister stare at me from behind him. They both hold a shocked expression.

"Amalie, where have you been? Where did you go? Did they hurt you? Someone phone emergency services!" My father yells the final sentence at Charlie. Yet, Charlie ignores his orders.

"No. father. I was not taken, I was not hurt. I left on my own because I really believed you didn't want the life with me in it. I was so much of a hassle for the media, do not tell me I wasn't. The day I left, you yelled at me saying you wished you were never brought up in this situation. That is almost the same as telling me you wish I was never born. I only came back for one thing and one thing only." I explain to him. The minute I started talking to my father, my British accent returns.

He looks down at his feet. "What is it that you want?" His voice sounds cold, almost like it did the day I left. It made me believe my plan was about to fail.

"Tell the media you reached out to me through any way that is not physical. Tell them I am okay and I am living my own left separate from this royal catastrophe. I love you all, but I know you do not love me the same since you kept me locked away for such a large part of my childhood. After our meeting, I will be returning to America. I will have my own life back." My voice quivers while trying to let out the last sentence. "I will provide you with my cell, you all can reach out to me. I will not be a stranger and by heart, I can always remain as your daughter," I look at my brother and sister. "And your sister."

My father walks towards me and pauses, my heart skips a beat. He pulls me into an embrace. I have never hugged my father before and this felt like a huge piece of my life that was missing for so long.

"I will let the Queen know you are alright." He whispers in my ear before letting go of the embrace. I walk over to my brother and sister and give them each a warm hug. I finally felt like this was how it was always meant to be. My mother didn't want me to leave entirely, she wanted our family to see my worth and my strength as an individual, just like she had.

I pull away and walk back towards Leanne. I hug her too and I whisper "Thank you" I can feel her embrace me tighter. If it wasn't for her, I would have never found my peace.

I stand beside Makayla and she holds my hand.

"Also, I changed my name." Makayla looks at me because I did not tell her this part. "I'm sorry. My name is Adaline Margaret Andrews." I smile and squeese Makayla's hand.

"You're really sticking with Adaline Andrews? She questions.

I smile, "I guess I'm just full of secrets."