Hey all, here I am with an afternoon update – makes a change because I'm usually writing late at night! Thanks for the reviews, and welcome to new readers :) Enjoy chapter seven...

It's the eyes that are familiar to me. I know exactly who they remind me of; but I also know that it can't be that person. I think I would know instinctively if it were him. I would have known a while ago. Because the person facing me now is Andrew – only I'm almost certain that's not his real name.

He's a Brooks. I just know it. Not the Brooks; but he's a close relation. And it's only due to the menacing look on his face that I've finally realised this fact.

"Hello, Gabriella," he says, his mouth forming a twisted smile.

What do I do? I think frantically, even though on the outside, I haven't dared to move yet. Do I play along? For the sake of my safety; and that of my baby's, I might have to do just that.

"Andrew, hi," I reply calmly, breaking into what I hope is a casual smile. "Any idea why the doors are locked?"

"Oh, are they?" he asks, actually sounding confused. And if I hadn't just worked him out, I probably would have been convinced by his performance. "I saw the caretaker earlier, why don't we go and ask him for the keys?"

In that moment I realise that the caretaker can't be anywhere nearby. I doubt any member of staff is within a metre of where he's going to take me. He'll have worked out the parts of the building where there are no club sessions taking place.

"Okay, lead the way," I say in a jokey manner, as he walks away from the exit. As I follow him and quietly get my phone from my bag, I hope and pray that he hasn't noticed that I'm on to him. If he thinks I'm still none the wiser, then what I'm about to do won't give him any reason to be suspicious.

"I'd better text my husband and let him know I won't be long – he's probably wondering where I am!" I add with a light chuckle, as if simply referring to the locked door 'mishap' in my humour.

The man – I don't know what to call him now, except Andrew to his face – turns around and stops in front of me again. At this point, my fingers are just accessing the message icon on my phone when he suddenly grabs it from my hand. "No need for that," he replies, his tone darker now.

Oh God...

"Come on, then," he adds with far too much contrasting cheer. Then he puts a hand on my shoulder to coax me in the direction he wants to take me. I have no choice; he isn't going to let me get away.

I feel sick. And it's definitely not morning sickness anymore.

Five minutes later we reach the caretaker's stock room cupboard. "You see, here we are!" he exclaims. He opens the door, and I want to run because I know what's coming next by now. But he's behind me; escape is impossible.

He pushes me inside and slams the door shut. And then, to my horror, he is locking it. There's no light, the space is relatively small, and I can't catch my breath. I can hear his footsteps, fading away.

Is this supposed to be revenge? Locking me up and running away? Eerily, though, it matches the actions of Troy's attacker perfectly. He committed assault, ran away, then was locked up.

There is no doubt that this has been done on that man's behalf. Meaning there is someone just as despicable as him on the loose.

.HSM.

I'm crouched on the floor of the stock cupboard, with no awareness of how much time has passed. If I wasn't pregnant, and if I had an ounce of strength in me; I would try and kick this door down.

The sound of someone approaching keeps me still, straining to listen for any other movements. Please let this be someone else. Anyone else, I think as I cross my fingers in desperation.

"Everyone else is gone now, Gabriella. We're the only ones left in the building," he says in a creepy, yet pleased sounding voice.

He must have unlocked the main doors, allowing staff and pupils to leave without any knowledge of what's going on; and then locked the building again. But surely, then, he has stolen the caretaker's keys. Where the hell is the caretaker? The guy who usually locks up?

Suddenly I just feel angry. I know that really, I shouldn't risk talking back. But I want answers. "Who the hell are you? If you're going to keep me in here like this, I deserve to know what your problem is!"

Of course, for the most part I'm already sure about the reasons for this ambush. But I want to hear it.

"Who am I? Let's just start with who you are, shall we?" he says. "You sent my brother to prison, all because you were sleeping with the guy who claimed to be the victim."

"What!" If I was angry before, now I'm utterly furious. But I'm still in no position to have the upper hand. Among my disgust, I recall the fact that Brooks did have an older brother.

"Well, why don't I break it down for you?" he adds. "What was his name...oh yes, Bolton. Now your husband, incidentally. He accused my brother of assault and attempted murder. And because of you, testifying against him; he was sent down."

"He was 'sent down' because he beat Troy to within an inch of his life!" I shout. "I was there, I saw everything. It's how we met. Your brother attacked Troy until he couldn't move. And then he kicked him, over and over, and ran away. The only thing Troy did that night was try and diffuse a fight that your brother was already having with another guy. If you're trying to protest that man's innocence, then either you're deluded; or he's a very convincing actor."

There is silence on the other side of the door. Did he really believe that much in his brother after all that happened? If Brooks' own mother knew when to admit her son's guilt; then why didn't this man see the truth as well? Or is he bluffing, in which case this really is all just revenge?

There is a loud thump outside. Then all I hear is whimpering. It seems he may have realised that his brother was always guilty. Now all I can do is wait, and hope that he comes to his senses and unlocks the door.

After a few minutes have passed, I hear a scuffling and assume he is getting to his feet.

Oh please, just let me go home to Troy...

And then I hear running. Running away. He's actually going to leave me trapped in here. Has he panicked and realised what a mess he's got himself into? And if he has, doesn't he realise that leaving me like this is going to make things worse for him? Whether he's a good person or not deep down, he's still manhandled me and locked me up.

Oh my God, I'm going to be here all night. What if I run out of air? I'm going to suffocate, and Troy won't be able to find me. Even if he comes here, how is he going to work out that I'm in this tiny little room? I don't know if I can make enough noise to alert anyone to my whereabouts. Not in this state.

I can do nothing now, not even protect my unborn child. It is this thought that terrifies me, erupting me into body-shaking sobs as I drop to my knees.

Even when Troy and I were apart; even when we had to go through that trial, I never lost all hope.

But I can feel it disappearing now. And if I can't cling onto hope, how will I ever get through this?

My energy levels are dropping too. I close my eyes, feeling helpless and useless. Leaning back and finding a solid wall behind me, I rest my head against it.

I don't want to give up, but my ability to even think is slipping away now.

And the last thing I can feel is the ultimate reminder of life, as my hands rest over my stomach protectively – my last conscious movement before I unwillingly lose myself to the darkness.

Sorry to leave you hanging again! Look out for an update soon, and:

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