The Hanson home was a quiet one these days which was very unusual with seven kids running around. The family had been back in Tulsa for about a week when the police told them being in New York wouldn't help the cause too much. As much as they didn't want to leave, wanting to be as close to Taylor as possible, they agreed and went back.

Everyone had their mind on Taylor. They couldn't not think about him. The house felt extremely empty without him. Whenever the phone rang everyone would stop what they were doing and wait to see who it was, wait to see if there was any new news. Then whoever it was that answered the phone would shake their head back and forth after a few seconds to let them know it wasn't about Taylor. Taylor was still missing. The breif gleam of hope disapeared and they went back to what they were doing. This happened all too often. Everyone was on the edge of their seat just waiting to hear something, anything.

People in the neighborhood would often stop by to offer their condolences. The letters and packages poured in from fans all over the world. The family felt grateful to be so loved, but nothing filled the void they all felt. They just didn't understand why this was happening. Why did Taylor have to go through this? Things like this happen to other people. Not them.

Zac woke up that morning and turned and looked across the room to see that Taylor's bed was still empty. He didn't know why he looked there every morning, he knew he wouldn't be there. He just hoped that out of some miracle he'd wake up and see him laying there one morning. He always found himself disappointed when he wasn't. He and Taylor shared the room and it felt lonelier than ever. He remembered when Isaac moved into his own room. He and Taylor would always keep saying it felt "different." Now without either of his brother's in there it felt more than different, it felt like it wasn't even his room and seeing all of Taylor's things scattered around just killed him. He decided he would ask Isaac if he could sleep in his room for the next few nights.

The morning dragged on like all their mornings. The family was up and moving, but things seemed to move slower since they returned home.

"Ike would you get the mail please?" Diana asked her son. Isaac looked up from the paper he was reading. He could see she was busy preparing breakfast for the younger kids.

"Sure."

"Thank you."

Isaac walked out of the house and looked around to make sure no journalists or interviewers were hanging out in the yard. They liked to do that. The coast looked clear. He walked out the mailbox and opened it up. He pulled out the mail. He walked back to the house looking through the mail in his hands. All envelopes. Some bills, some letters from relatives. He stopped when he saw a letter with no return address and a bunch on postage on it. He pulled it to the front of the rest of the mail and walked into the house shutting the door behind him. He walked into the kitchen and set the mail down on the table, except for that one letter.

"Anything good?" Diana asked.

"I don't Know." Isaac replied. He opened up the envelope carefully and pulled out the letter. It looked pretty wrinkled and roughed up. He unfolded it.

Isaac,
I don't know why I'm even writing this. You're probably never going to see it.

Isaac's heart pounded just reading the first two sentences. He then skimmed down to see Taylor's name signed at the bottem. This was his handwriting. He quikly read what was written.

"Mom!" Isaac yelled. Startled, Diana dropped what she was doing and walked over to Isaac.

"What is it?" She asked looking at Isaac as he read the piece of paper in his hands.

"I can't believe it. Taylor wrote me a letter!"