A week had passed since her escape, and Felicity had fallen into a nice rhythm with working in the shop. She woke up around the same time as John, whom she would sit across from at breakfast and have a nice meal. The family was a small one – there was only one child, and his wife was pregnant with one more. After eating, they'd head over to the shop, where Felicity would run inventory, stock shelves, and clean out the back room. There was a lot of work to be done – especially with organizing the back room – but Felicity found the shop reminded her of her own father's, and it was a small lifeline back to home.

After work, she and John would usually walk home together, where they'd have casual chats. Sometimes his questions were a bit odd, such as time he asked what her favorite flower was. They were never terribly prying, and never improper, but they were so offhand and out of the realm to the conversation that it was perplexing. But she was not of the disposition to challenge him, not when she had so much to lose – her current home, the job that supported her!

So she kept quiet and ignored his odd questions. She supposed they didn't matter anyway.

Sadly, she did find her days were far gloomier here than they were at home. Perhaps it was the weight of her secret, perhaps it was her routine, but Felicity had an inkling feeling that it was something else entirely.

She missed home, and she missed Ben.

She found herself thinking of them daily. No, not just daily – constantly! Every time a customer came in, she could hear her father's voice greeting them. When she was told to reorganize the room, she did it the exact way Ben did it. Whenever she saw cinnamon, the thought of the cinnamon bread that Ben loved so dearly. If only everything hadn't been all muddled up – from the war, the letters, her feelings, everything!

One little change, and everything would've been fine! If Ben hadn't gotten injured, he would've come home when she was still available! If the message had actually gotten to her, she would've waited! If he wasn't engaged to Annabelle, she would've found a way to break things off with David, or run away with Ben!

But these 'ifs' didn't matter, and she was now pretending to be a different person every day, in a town that wasn't her own, with people who were not her family. And she really, really missed Ben.

She adjusted well, at least in her own opinion, but everything would've been much easier if she didn't have to; if the universe had worked itself out the way it should have in the first place. Felicity wanted to go home, but she didn't know if she could.

…

David had known the news for a week now, and anyone who had spoken to him would've said he was in denial. He did not seem ill affected by Felicity's disappearance, because he was so sure she hadn't run off.

"It's a tragic situation, of course" he would preface every conversation of the topic, before he delved into explanations. She had been taken by a jealous suitor, by some man who would demand money in return. David would give him whatever money, and his timid wife would return to his side, thanking him profusely for his bravery.

Any day now, a letter would arrive outline the means and specifics of the ransom, and then David could truly get to work and return his bride. He knew she didn't leave because wives just simply don't do that! He was always a good man to Felicity – never abusive, never harsh, always understanding. There was no reason for her to dislike him, and thus he was sure that she would not have possibly run away.

Wives seldom left their husbands and if they did, it was because the husbands were always people. But David loved marriage, and he loved being engaged to Felicity. He showed her this as often as possible; took her on walks, wrote her kind letters, exactly everything one should do for the woman they were to marry. He was sure she hadn't left him, almost as sure as he was that she'd be returned – and soon!

He saw no more reason to discuss it, no more reason to be concerned. She would be returned to him soon, and all could continue as it had before. Until then, he would wait.

…

It had been a week of searching, and Ben had gone through three towns. He found that people were quite generous, and on several occasions he had even been able to trade the story of his mission for a good meal at a pub. He slept under trees, at the edge of woods, and even on someone's covered porch one night when it rained.

He kept going, and he would continue on, as long as it took to find Felicity. Every town he didn't find her was a disappointment, but he knew at least he was getting closer. He would ask around – in shops, in taverns, even random people on the street. Asking if they had seen her, or where she possibly could've gone.

Sadly, no one was quite sure. They had seen redheaded girls, but never any they didn't know, and they were all quite sure it was not his Felicity. Ben found that he was growing more and more desperate. He would've taken any lead – if only he could find one!

People, at best, were confused by his journey, at worst, indignant. Some thought he was a loon, passing through towns in hopes of picking up some spare change and free meals. Ben tried his best to continue looking orderly and respectable in order to dissuade this, though hygiene was a more difficult thing to maintain walking all day, and sleeping outside.

As he continued, he found himself more desperate, and he had to keep reminding himself that it had only been a week, only been a week. But still! The nagging thoughts persisted – that she had moved one town farther, disguised herself enough that no one recognized her, that she resided in a town he had already checked and moved on from. There were too many variables, and too few clues!

And hint, any inkling, any person's drawn out 'welllll I may have seen her passing through'; that would be enough for him to proceed forward with confidence, but for now, he continued his journey solely out of need: solely out of the desire to see Felicity Merriman once more.

Having exhausted yet another town, he headed northwest, to a heavily rural town that was said to be a squatting place for fortune tellers and magicians. Ben didn't quite believe in magic, but he'd take what he could get. Maybe they could make her appear.

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