Silence. No one at the table moved or said anything. Jerri gulped and rubbed the back of her neck, and Charlie just sat there, dumbstruck, staring at me like I had a third eye. "You what?" Charlie asked loudly, making me jump.

"I had a run-in with the shooter earlier today when Jerri and I were at the record store," I said simply, trying to remain calm.

"What happened Eileen?" asked Charlie sharply.

"He said he thought I worked there because he asked me how much a record was, and then he said that I looked familiar to him." I said. Charlie looked as if he were about to explode. I knew I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sure this just made it worse.

"What else did he say?" asked Charlie. "Did he ask your name?"

I nodded, and Charlie's blue-grey eyes widened with absolute fear.

"What did you tell him?" he asked, his voice shaking.

"I told him my name was Jane Lennon," I said calmly. Charlie let out a sigh of relief, but Jerri still looked scared out of her wits. Why would she be so scared over this? She didn't care for me that much, did she? She was probably like that because she was afraid that Charlie would yell at her for not looking out for me, which I thought was not very likely; if Charlie was upset with her, he would've shown it be now.

"Good," said Charlie, a little less tense.

"What should we do?" asked Jerri. Her voice was small, meek. Almost Pattie-esque. It was sort of comforting in a weird, twisted way.

"I think we should keep Eileen inside the house for the time being," said Charlie.

"Inside?" I asked, outraged.

"Eileen, it's for your own safety!" snapped Charlie.

"Charlie's right, Eileen," said Jerri. "We can't risk you getting caught. It would be horrible."

"But-" I began to protest, but it was no use. What's done is done when you're with Charlie, and that happened to be who I was with. There was just no point in arguing. We all finished dinner in silence, and I sulked back up to my room. I closed my door, but that didn't mean I still couldn't hear anything that went on outside. The walls in my room were very thin, so I could hear Jerri and Charlie talking as I laid down on my bed.

"Charlie, I really think we should give the girl another chance," said Jerri.

"No, Jerri, this is serious," said Charlie.

"But Charlie, dear, you can't just lock her up like this; the girl needs he freedom!" said Jerri.

"Love, I don't want to lose her just like I lost mum," said Charlie. "I'd be too much. I need to keep her safe."

"But as long as she's with one of us, she'll be safe," said Jerri. "If the shooter wanted to get her today, then she wouldn't be with us now."

"That is true," said Charlie. "But I don't want to take any more chances. Eileen is staying in this house until that crazy is caught."

"Oh, Charlie, please!" pleaded Jerri. I could mentally see her on her hands and knees. "I'll be with her the whole time! She's not some animal that you can just cage up like this-she's a human being that can take care of herself." I was shocked that Jerri was making such an effort to get Charlie to change his mind. It was almost as if she actually, genuinely cared for me.

"I know she's not an animal," said Charlie. "But she's my little sister." The conversation was ended like that, and I heard both of them walking separate ways. If Charlie wasn't going to let me out of the house, then how was I supposed to get back to the hotel? Thoughts clouding my mind, I pulled the covers over me and drifted off to sleep.

*Pattie's P.O.V.*
It was midmorning on the fourth day of Eileen's "kidnapping," and I was standing outside the hotel under a tree. A taxi drove up to the curb, and Gregory climbed out of the driver's seat. He walked over to me, looking confused.

"Hey there, Miss Boyd," he said.

"Hello, Gregory," I said.

"Say, Miss Boyd," said Gregory. "I haven't seen Miss Carter 'round 'ere lately. She's still here, isn't she?"

I told him the story of what Charlie did. When I finished, he stood there with a shocked expression on his face. "So that's that," I said.

"Wow, Miss Boyd, that's horrible!" said Gregory. "Aren't you trying to get 'er back?"

"Yes," I said. "We've got out friend Gwen working on a plan. She's quite the schemer, you know." Of course I knew. The only twisted plan of Gwen's that didn't come off well were those costumes to get us into the old hotel for Eileen.

"Well, that's good," said Gregory. "What's her plan?"

I shrugged. "I dunno, she's being rather secret about it; she's not telling anyone."

Gregory frowned. "Is that normally a good thing?" he asked.

"Usually," I said. "It means that she's got an involved plan. That's really what we need now."

"I'd say," said Gregory. "Well, Miss Boyd, it's been a pleasure, and good luck with gettin' Miss Carter! If there's any way I can help, just call on me!"

"No problem!" I called over to the taxi as he drove away. Biting my lip, I went back into the hotel room. "Hey guys," I said as I walked in.

"Hey Pattie," said George, lounged out on the couch. "What's up?"

"I saw Gregory," I said.

"Gregory?" asked Ringo, flipping through the television channels, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

"The taxi driver that drove Eileen around everywhere," I said.

"Oh, I remember him!" said John, perking up on the couch. "He was the one who drove me and Eileen to that modeling place for the photoshoot. What'd he say?"

"He was wondering where Eileen was," I explained. "He said he could be a help if we needed him."

"You'd better tell that to Gwen so she can work it out in her plan," said Paul, who was sitting on the floor next to Ringo with Jane sprawled out in his lap.

"I'll do that now," I said. I crept over to Gwen's room where she was working and opened the door slowly. I had to be quiet, or else Gwen would lose concentration and she's have to start again from square one. "Hey, Gwen," I said.

Gwen looked up from her papers. "Hey Pat. What's up?"

I kneeled down next to her. "How's the plan going?"

"Oh, it's going great!" said Gwen. "Now the only thing I need is transportation..."

Yes! "Really?" I asked. "I've got just the thing for you!"

"What?" asked Gwen.

"You remember that taxi driver I told you about-Gregory?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I ran into him this morning, and he said he wanted to help!"

"Oh my God, really?" shouted Gwen, jumping out of her seat, sending papers flying everywhere. "Oh, Pattie, this is great! We'll have Eileen back before we know it, and John'll stop sulking! Yes!" She shot up to me and hugged me, hard, and hopped back to her seat, scribbling notes and diagrams frantically.

"I'm glad you like that," I puffed, out of breath from her hug. I walked back out to the main room to the others waiting.

"Well?" asked Jane.

I grinned. "She loved it." I walked over to where George was lying on the couch, and snuggled up beside him. I felt content.

*Eileen's P.O.V.*
It was lunchtime, and Charlie, Jerri, and I were all sitting around the table, eating silently. Last night was pretty rough, since all sorts of thoughts about being trapped in the house were swirling all around my head, so I was tired. When I woke up this morning, I swore just the thought of myself not being able to go out in the sun for God knows how long made my skin a shade lighter. I was going mad.

"You all finished, Eileen?" asked Charlie, reaching over for my empty plate.

"Yes, Mr. Mum," I said jokingly to him. Ever since I came here, Charlie was acting like a nursing-home coordinator. I was contemplating putting frilly pink apron on him.

"Oh, Charlie, you have to let me take care of things sometime," said Jerri as Charlie took my plate. "You're working yourself too hard."

"Jerri, I was just taking a plate," said Charlie.

Jerri didn't reply. After Charlie took my plate, I went up to my room. I didn't do anything; I just sat there. I put a random record on the turntable and it turned out to be Chuck Berry's "Johnny B. Goode." I listened to the song for a bit, tapping my fingers to the rhythm. I had hoped the song would take my mind off things, but sadly, "Johnny" really made it worse. Pathetic. Right then, I knew that I honestly had to look on the brighter side of life. I took that record off the turntable and put on another one. I was happy to hear "Oh, Pretty Woman" by Roy Orbison playing this time. It made me a little happier.

When the song ended, I remained silent. I looked out my window for about the millionth time today, and thought about what the others were doing back at the hotel room. I was starting to get worried that Gwen would not be able to come up with a plan. I bit my nails and finger-combed my hair. All my thoughts reached out to John.

*John's P.O.V.*
I sat on my bed, thinking about Eileen. About her soft, blonde hair that smelled so sweet, her crystal clear blue eyes, her cynical but adoring smile. There were no words to express how I was feeling at this moment. I knew Gwen was coming up with a plan, but it was coming along slow. I pushed my hair out of my forehead, only for it to flop back down again. My eyes traveled around the room until I saw a piece of paper.

I picked it up, and I saw it was manuscript paper. There was music written on it, for piano. in the top right hand corner of the paper, I saw the small words: "Written by Eileen Carter." Heart rate speeding up, I rushed over to the recording studio-to a piano.