BIRDIE'S POV

A week. I had been here for an entire week. I was not the type of person who could entertain themselves, I needed to do something. I couldn't stand just sitting here.

"I'm going insane!" I yelled at the window, bent nails forced into its paint-chipped, splintering wood frame. Those rusty nails were meant to keep me in here. I'd tried to pry them up, but only succeeded in slicing my fingertips open. I cradled my still horridly swollen hand against my stomach and rocked back and forth in the chair.

I acquired new bruises. I'd upset Keegan again. He tried to kiss me once when he came to take me to Boss, who I now was made to visit every day. I had pushed him away and when he came back I slapped him. Half of my face was a sickly shade of purple and the eye on that side was swollen shut. My lip was split and my ribs were at least bruised, if not cracked. I tried not to move much. I spent most of the day in the chair, except for the agonizing times I would be dragged downstairs to stand under that lonely flickering bulb and talk to the boy in the dark.

Being here scared me. Although Derek tried to bring me as many pain pills as he could, and sneak me as much of his food as he could spare, nothing got better. I would never grow used to these creaking walls and sagging ceilings that always loomed over me, threatening to collapse. The decrepit building never followed through though, and to my immense disappointment it remained standing. I closed my eyes and imagined the old house shaking and creaking and groaning until it just toppled over, Keegan, Boss and the others caught beneath the rubble, I would run. I wouldn't hurt anymore, I wouldn't be hungry anymore, and I would be fast and strong enough to run all the way home to Carter. I would run all the way back to the one I loved, where he would be waiting-

Wait… He would be waiting? No. He'd better not be sitting at the safe house waiting for me! That boy had better be breaking his ass searching the city for me!

I was suddenly overwhelmed by my uncharacteristic bout of rage, I screamed and punch the wall with my good hand, gasping and curling back into a tiny ball. My ribs protested against my exertion, my hand throbbed violently and my heart sobbed tears of anger and loneliness. I couldn't understand why Carter hadn't saved me yet. The night I was kidnapped I was sure that I would be home within a day. Now I wondered if he was even coming for me at all.

CASPAR'S POV

I awoke again to the same irritating noises and blinding lights. This time a nurse was in the room, and she put a firm hand on my shoulder, warning me not to try and move.

"You tore nearly all the stitches on your back and shoulders out last time, dear. I don't recommend doing that again." She patted my shoulder, I winced, and then she apologized and quickly left. Despite her orders, I lifted my arm, made large circles in the air then paused. I hadn't torn any stitches. I reached over and felt my other shoulder. It was completely covered in tiny little bumps. They hurt to the touch but felt as if skin had already begun healing over them. I sat up. My stitches still felt fine. How long had I been here if I had already healed so well? Then again, I couldn't figure that out until I knew how bad I had originally been injured.

I needed to get out of here. My clothes were sitting on the chair on the other side of the room. I limped over, shut and locked the door then quickly got out of the hospital gown and dressed. I had to leave before they figured out who I was.

Just before I slid out of the window, a clipboard with tons of charts and papers on it caught my eye. I removed the papers from the clipboard and stuffed them into my jacket without glancing at the words. I already knew what they were, they were my charts, my papers, and I knew that somewhere in those charts and papers would be a paper with my name on it, my real name.

I pried open the window, surprised that the hospital windows even opened, glanced around outside and slid out of the building and onto the ground. I was stiff, more than stiff. It was painful to move, and I avoided and large, quick or complicated movements. I couldn't afford to pull out any stitches.

Despite my handicap, I disappeared into the sprawling city streets and alleys like I'd never been there at all. There was a reason they called me The Ghost.

BETT'S POV-PRESENT DAY

"Elaine!" I exclaimed, bursting through the door with a ridiculously enormous grin on my stupid, stupid face. The grin faded into a confused and concerned frown.

"Elaine?" I whispered to the pale, thin and dirty girl that stood facing away from me.

"What?" She screamed, turning around. "What do you want?"

I gasped and stumbled backwards, tears brimming in my eyes. This was not how I remembered my sister. Her eyes were sunken into dark pools of purple skin, whether it was from tiredness or bruises I didn't know. Her cheek bones stuck out on either side of her face and her arms were literally as thin as sticks. One hand was grotesquely disfigured, the knuckles had been pushed together until they were touching and two of her fingers were stuck crossed over each other, and the entire hands just held itself in an awkward sort of way. The dress she wore hung off of her frame like a sail hangs off its mast on a windless day. Bare, dirty feet stuck out from under the worn and fraying fabric, and even through her angry expression I could see the fear in my baby sister.

"It's me, Betts." I said in a quiet voice. I wasn't sure if I was being quiet to comfort her, or myself.

"I know who you are." She spat at me, "Why are you here?"

"For you." I told her, a little louder this time. Elaine laughed.

"For me?" She laughed again, it was a sick sound that crackled and snapped as it rose up in her throat, another sign of the abuse she'd been through. "Why didn't you come for me when I was stuck in hell for so long?"

"Elaine, you were only in that house for a month.." I held my hands out in an apologetic offer. I hadn't seen my sister in three years; I didn't want this to be how I remembered our reunion.

"It was the longest damn month of my life, and I was on the run from the biggest gang in New York for another." She hissed. "Now get out of here."

"I will not get out!" Now I was angry too. After three years, this was how she was going to treat me? I was her sister!

"Yes, you will! Get out of here! I don't want to see you!" She shrieked at me.

I swallowed my anger and slowly backed out of the room, shutting the door softly as I left. I tried to think of all she'd been through and be sympathetic.

CASPAR'S POV-PRESENT DAY

I stood across the hall from the room Birdie was in, listening to every word exchanged between her and Betts. After only a few minutes, Betts backed out of the room and carefully close the door.

"How did it go?" I asked. Betts shot me a vile look then said, "Oh, don't pretend like you don't already know." She paused a moment longer, then burst into tears and ran off.

I sighed and leaned against the wall, remembering how life had been just over two months ago. How had everything changed so fast? How had everything gone so wrong?