There is a time jump here. Sorry if you're not a fan of that but it was necessary for the story to progress.

4 Years Missing

Casey is now just a shell of the person she was before. Over the years she's given up any hope that anyone is still looking for her.

Every day is the same for her. Sometimes Charlie comes, and when he does she cooperates. She takes off her clothes and gives him what he wants. She doesn't speak a word; she just lies still and silent as Charlie has his way with her, usually violently.

It's been four years of torture and pain. When she gets a beating now it barely affects her at all. She's used to pain.

Two years ago he sliced her face with his pocket knife, for no reason other than to make her less desirable for anyone else. She bled profusely but refused to cry or show any signs of pain. She must have done something to deserve it.

Casey hasn't seen her face since the cutting but she can feel a scar across her cheek. Charlie tells her she's worthless and ugly and that no one else will ever want her because of her scar. After hearing those words for four years, Casey can only assume they are true. She's some kind of horrible, hideous monster that no one would ever want to look at.

Before she gave up on herself she did everything she could to try and get away. She tried to end her life by starving herself. After a week of not eating, Charlie had sat on her chest and forced food down her throat. She had tried it again several weeks later but the crippling hunger pains got the best of her and she made herself eat.

Another time she tried to choke herself with the shackles, and when she couldn't do that she desperately sought a way to hang herself.

But nothing had worked, and she sank deeper and deeper into fear and despair until she gave up completely on herself.

When she comes down with a terrible cold in the middle of the winter she is denied tissues. Charlie tells her she doesn't deserve them, that she deserves to suffer. So Casey rides the cold out and when she develops a cough she thinks she deserves that too.

Not long after Casey starts to get sick, the space heater stops working. It's in the middle of a particularly cold spell, and Casey finds herself freezing with only her flannel blanket and hooded sweatshirt.

Charlie doesn't visit for several days so Casey spends days in the throes of a fever, her body aching and burning to the touch. She doesn't know how many days go by, but she begins hallucinating. She knows her brain is slowly being affected by the extremely high temperature surging through her body.

Her body is wracked with constant coughs, her chest feeling heavy as it rattles with each cough. She finds herself gasping desperately for breath with each spell.

The sickness has overtaken her body, draining her of any energy. She sleeps in between fits of gasping and coughing. She's unable to get herself up, her body just too weak and sick to cooperate with her.

One day Charlie returns. She's aware that he's there's and he's saying words to her, touching her. Her eyes burn and she's unable to keep them open for even a few minutes. She tries to talk but it comes out as a groan only as she grasps her blanket with shaking hands and pulls it around herself.

It sounds like his voice is far away, and when she does manage to hold her eyes open long enough to focus on anything her vision is spotty and blurry.

Suddenly she's aware of a second voice. Even in her sickly stupor she would know another voice after four years of only Charlie's.

Arguing. Someone is arguing with Charlie. It's a woman's voice, and it's high and shrill.

"How long has she been down here?" The voice practically screams, and then bursts into tears after Casey hears Charlie reply.

Casey raises her head long enough to make out the face leaning in front of her - Charlie's mother. Tears are running down her cheeks as she touches Casey's back.

Casey shrinks away from her touch, covering herself with the blanket.

"Casey, I am so sorry. I am so sorry," she says over and over again.

She says something to Charlie that Casey can't make out and then Charlie yells. She picks up on a few more words, "very, very sick," "how could you?" "or she's going to die."

Casey tries hard to stay with it and figure out what is going on but her body is lulling her into slumber. She shivers greatly as she gives in to its demands.

And the next thing Casey is aware of is commotion around her, loud noise. There's a sound that is similar to a siren but she knows it couldn't be. The sound of radio chatter.

She knows she's dreaming or hallucinating again, or maybe even dead.

"Casey Novak?" a male voice says, and Casey looks up to see what looks like a police officer and a paramedic leaning over her.

This can't be real. Can't be real. I'm too sick.

The question is repeated and instead of answering, Casey tries to make herself as small as possible. Out of pure instinct she pushes herself into the dirt ground, holding the blanket over her with as much strength as her body will allow.

She can't let anyone see her. Charlie told her she's hideous to look at it. she can't let anyone touch her - she knows they will hurt her.

The next few minutes are a blur. More sirens, more talking. All different voices, all voices except Charlie's. Loud beeps.

Someone tries to pick her up. Casey immediately goes into fight or flight mode and thrashes about, not wanting anyone to touch her.

But her strength leaves her and as she's strapped to a gurney she passes out.

2.

The next time Casey opens her eyes, there's even more commotion and noise.

She's still laying down on what she knows to be a gurney and as she looks up she sees fluorescent lights. She's being moved quickly, men in uniform talking loudly on either side of her.

Her mind slowly gathers that she's in a hospital, being moved down the corridors. Suddenly she's gripped with fear; why is she here? Does Charlie know she's gone? He's going to be so angry and she's going to get another beating.

They take her into a room and everything happens so quickly so can't process it. She's fighting to stay conscious despite the hotness raging through her and the tightness of her chest.

A doctor runs into the room, and she immediately leans down and touches Casey's arm. Her touch is like hot coils and Casey closes her eyes and braces herself to be hit.

But she isn't. Instead she has a kind voice, and softly says, "Casey, you're going to be okay. You're at the hospital. You're going to get better."

Casey is aware of police officers at her side and the doctor says something to them, causing them to step out of the room.

A nurse is at Casey's other side and without warning sticks her arm for the IV.

Casey completely loses it. She starts screaming, begging the nurse not to hurt her. The doctor tries to calm her, repeating over and over that it's okay, but Casey won't stop thrashing about. She kicks outward, catching the nurse in the side.

Despite being sick and weak, Casey is strong. It takes the doctor and three nurses to restrain her. Casey is terrified and shaking as another needle goes into her arm; this time a sedative.

It takes just a few seconds to take effect, but before it does, Casey is aware that she's peed herself.

Charlie is going to beat me for this. He's going to be so mad…

Then the sedative takes hold and she passes out again.

3.

The last four years have been filled with change and turmoil for Alex.

She saw herself leave a career she's worked all her life for and open the book on a chapter in her life.

Losing Olivia was definitely one of the hardest things Alex had gone through. Olivia had taken her things from the house slowly so for weeks after the split Alex could still smell her perfume lingering and when she would see something that belonged to Olivia she become sad all over again.

Olivia remained supportive of Alex, always offering an ear and a shoulder.

Alex hadn't even recovered from the loss of her best friend, so losing another person that meant so much almost broke her. She had spent some dark days alone hating the universe for taking two people she loved from her.

She hadn't seen Olivia outside of the occasional run-in in three years. They kept in touch when she first left the DA's but they quickly got lost in their own lives. She had been happy to hear that Olivia had been promoted Captain and had sent congratulatory flowers to her office. Last time she saw her was at a coffee shop in Manhattan where Olivia showed her photos of her adopted son, Noah. Alex had been happy and proud that Olivia had finally gotten what she wanted in her life and was finally happy.

They keep saying they need to have lunch and catch up. But those plans never come to fruition.

Alex spent her days volunteering at various women's shelters, wanting to help those in a similar situation to what her best friend had gone through. She poured large amounts of money into local shelters, updating them with new furniture and technology.

There wasn't one day of her life in the past three years that she didn't spend helping another person; whether it be emotional support, financial support, rides...whatever they needed.

Alex never gave up on Casey; she never would. She spent less time looking for her now as she had a new purpose to occupy her time, but she checked her Facebook page every day and not a day passed that she didn't think about her.

In her mind, helping other women somehow made up for not being able to help Casey.

As much as Alex loved spending her time at the shelters, she often found herself at odds with the administrators over policy. They were quick to call child protective services and split up families, and the women and children they helped often times went right back into the same situations they came out of.

Alex got emotionally invested dozens of times and wished there things she could do outside the law to help these women. The law often didn't favor them; their abusers would get a slap on the wrist or they would be prosecuted for acting in self defense.

After three years Alex was pretty burnt out on running in place to help these women.

Then one day as she was driving home, she saw something that would change her life forever.

A former halfway house was for sale. It was white with brown trim, very large, two story and modern. A nice yard with nice landscaping and a fountain in the front of the property.

She hadn't seen the for sale sign the last time she drove this way and had immediately called the number on the realtor sign.

Two days later she was on a walk through. It had been a home for troubled teenagers before the funding was lost and most everything had been left behind. There was a cafeteria with a full kitchen and fold down school style tables and even vending machines.

There was a very large lounge area that lacked furniture but still had a refrigerator and Alex could picture in her head all the possibilities.

There were several rooms upstairs and down, and two bathrooms on each floor. The bathrooms were ugly but definitely useable; Alex could certainly give them flair. The rooms each contained two sets of bunk beds on opposite walls and one nightstand for each bed.

Alex had made an offer slightly below asking price and three months later closed sale on the house and property.

She would open her own shelter where she could help women and families in the way that she needed to. Actually help them.

She worked by herself, wanting this to be her labor and her project.

She'd pull her hair back and put on old jeans and paint and paint until her hands were stained with color. She spent countless hours at different stores, buying decor to make the house seem like a sanctuary and a home.

The house mattered to her. She sometimes spent twelve hours a day there working, getting closer and closer to her goal every day. It gave her something to focus on, something to be proud of.

Over several months the progress was really evident.

Every bedroom in the house now had brand new mattresses on the bunk beds and were freshly painted with brand new dressers. She had TVs for each room but was holding back on installing them until she could find someone to help her mount them on the walls.

She had cleaned the kitchen. She never in her life thought she'd see herself on the floor scrubbing stuck on grease with a toothbrush. But she had, day after day, until the hot holding table, oven, deep fryer and racks were clean. Then she polished everything with a stainless steel cleaner and cleaned the tiled floor.

She'd already decided the lower floor was going to get new carpet and picked out a nice stain resistance beige color. It took a team of carpenters only a day to install, and Alex very much liked the end result.

All in all, the place was coming together the way she wanted it. She wasn't going to open until things were one hundred percent ready to go. And with Alex, her one hundred percent would be two hundred percent to anyone else.

It's Friday and instead of working on the halfway house today, Alex decides to take some donations to the women's shelter in Manhattan where she first started volunteering. She stayed in touch with the director, Christine, and would like to get some advice on community outreach once she's ready to open.

Alex is almost to the shelter when her phone rings. It's an unknown number and she's not expecting a call so she lets it go to voicemail.

Christine comes outside as soon as she sees Alex's car, huge smile on her face. Alex steps out and the two women embrace.

"Alex! We have missed you so much!"

Alex gives her a smile. Of all the shelters she volunteered at, this was her favorite. And Christine was a caring, dedicated person who did the most with what she had and was limited on what she could do to help those in need.

"I wanted to stop by sooner. Life is crazy. I'm working every day on that house. I'm sorry I haven't had time to come by. But I brought some stuff for you guys," Alex walks around the car and motions to the backseat.

Alex has always trusted Christine, and a part of her had wanted to ask her to join on her on shelter venture. But she knows Christine is the heart and soul of this place and would never leave, and she would never ask her to get involved in what Alex knows has to be done.

"Alex, this is so amazing of you to do this," Christine says with a smile as she helps Alex unload her car and bring the boxes inside to the conference room.

Alex smiles, running her hand over the tape seal on the top box. "They were Casey's clothes. I've had them in storage since…" she clears her throat. "Since she's been gone. I know the women here can get some use out of them. Casey had some nice stuff. There are some blazers and suits that would be perfect for someone interviewing for a job, casual stuff too."

"Casey would be proud of you, Alex," Christine says, her eyes shining. "For opening your own shelter and for everything you did for us. You're really a special person. We will miss you around here. But I wish you luck on your venture, and should you need anything, don't hesitate to call me, please."

At that moment Alex's phone rings again. Same number as in the car. She sends it to voicemail again.

It took four years for Alex to be able to donate Casey's clothes. For her to feel any type of a semblance of closure. She knew that Casey would rather see women who need them wear them than for them to sit in boxes in storage.

"I really appreciate that," Alex says. "I know it won't be easy on my own. But I'm dedicated and I'm going to do it."

"Can I ask why you don't want anyone to help you?" Christine asks.

Alex looks at her. "I just feel like it's something I need to do on my own. Once I open I will recruit volunteers, but getting setup...it has to be me. I just have to do it. And I finally have a name." She clears her throat. "The Novak Center for Women and Families."

Christine smiles and hugs Alex again. "That's perfect. I wish you every bit of luck in the world, and never forget that you're an amazing person."

Alex stays for a couple hours, helping out with serving lunch and helping the child of a current resident with his math homework.

She had forgotten all about the call she sent to voicemail until she gets to her car. She slips her phone out of her purse and checks to see if they left a message.

Sure enough, there are two messages and Alex plays them.

"Alex, it's Detective Stevens. I need you to call me as soon as you get this message."

She isn't surprised to hear from Detective Stevens. He calls frequently to check up on her and her Facebook page.

The second message, however - well that one is a surprise

"It's Detective Stevens again. We have Casey. She's alive. She's at Rochester County Hospital, and I won't lie, she's in rough shape. Doctors think pneumonia...and several injuries. I know this isn't the call you expected to get. Come to the hospital as soon as you're able."What do you think? Will things be easier for Alex now, or harder because she will know what Casey actually went through? What about Casey?Please review!