The day was colder than expected. A brisk wind swept the remnants of warmth held captive in the stilled Mid-October air. The Philadelphian streets were caked with grime from the morning traffic and it smelt of the hard asphalt from the construction project on Delaney Street. The ever-present smog was beginning to fall as night made itself known to the enormously structured metropolis. Hard times had befallen this once city of brotherly love. Crimes are numerous as ever-present dangers lurk behind every corner, every building. Fear waits to encompass the few who follow the ever-dimming line of the law.

No one would ever think to search for her in this place. When she left Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, it wasn't on a whim. She had planned every part of this; the disappearance, the note, and even her landlord's gentle push into the opposite direction. Money controls everything, and after she slipped that old bag a hundred, she would've said she was the resurrected Jesus.

It doesn't matter. She was almost to work now. It wasn't work. It wasn't a hospital, but a convenient store on fifth. She was a bagger. Her work tennis shoes squeaked as she entered into the sliding doors. The ever present ding signaling her presence. She didn't bother to look appealing anymore. Her hair lay bodiless past her shoulders and her clothes showed no structure. Ever since she had to run, these trivial things became well, trivial.

A cashier motioned for her over at the second register. She picked up a can of ravioli and started her shift. Soon, her actions became mechanical as her mind wandered. Everything that's happened in the past six months put a weight on everything. She had grown less accepting, and more encompassed in her memories.

Time can seem nonexistent when one doesn't care. Her day blew by as her shift dwindled. Around 10, there wasn't much of anyone in the store, so the cashier decided to take a cigarette break. She was left in. She glanced under the counter and saw that this wasn't the first smoke the mid-aged women had today. An ashtray filled with butts was hidden rather well between the rolls of pennies and the discarded checks.

Suddenly, something was slammed down in front of her. A bottle of what appeared to be Bacardi lime. She glanced up and her heart skipped. Then, her mind escaped her form to wander around in chaos. This was not possible. She knew she had outrun everything, and everyone. But, right in front of her stood Gregory House, with a look of anger spread across his face.

"It looks like one of my ducklings has lost her way. Well, I'm here to help her find it," he droned, the sarcasm that was usually there was replaced with something else.

She could have sworn it was worry, but that too was impossible.

He just stared, almost as if he was trying to pry the truth of her disappearance through her eyes. She saw his jaw tighten. Perhaps by some chance he was worried. He seemed worn. His hair was ruffled and his complexion was ghostly white.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, with a tired, almost irritated tone.

She had become a very good actress since she left. She was almost pleased with herself for keeping her voice steady.

"What am I doing here? The question beyond that question is what are you doing here? What about your contract? Your three years isn't up." He reminded her.

Was that it, she wandered to herself. That's all that he's worried about? She was taken back at his selfishness. If he only knew that she wanted to stay. Now, it was too late to even think of revealing the truth. He needed to get back to his life before he too became a victim of this terrible ordeal she unknowingly entered herself.

"The contract is useless. Am I working for any other hospital?" she motioned to her environment around her.

"Your coming back." He ordered as his eyes turn almost steal grey.

She wished she could. He had no idea.

"That'll be $10.50 sir. Have a good night." She somehow made out, as an obviously fake smile spread across her face.