Hello all! Sorry for the delay in updates this week. I've been really quite busy so have had little time to sit down and write, but I will try my best to get some more updates up by the end of the week. I hope you're all still enjoying what you're reading. Reviews and comments appreciated as ever. Rachel x

Danielle kept a tight grasp on her bed covers with one hand, which remained pulled up to her chin; she wanted as much of the skin on her body to be covered as possible. The doctor had her other hand gripped tightly within her own, the contact sending a wave of pain throughout Danielle's body. "That's all fine, my dear" she told Danielle, as she measured her pulse.

As the pain brought Danielle back down to earth with a harsh bump, she could not keep her eyes shut any longer. It was still just as difficult to keep them open and Danielle still could not properly focus on what was going on around her, but she could hear someone talking to her, and it did not take long to work out exactly where she was.

This was hospital. This was the same place she had been just three days before. The room was so similar; the same grey, matted walls, the same clinical smell, the same dim light, the same tubes and monitors protruding from her body. Suddenly Danielle could remember what had happened to her; the phone, the accident, Ronnie.

But this time there was no-one there when she opened her eyes. No-one she knew; no faces that she could recognise.

The cruel actuality of the situation she now found herself in dawned on Danielle gradually, as her vision began to correct itself. As the walls and windows - the concrete reality of the space around her – came into focus, Danielle realised that she was alone again. She was alone, she had pushed everyone away. As a single tear fell to her cheek, Danielle admitted to herself that it was her fault; she had left Walford, she had sent Ronnie away, she had even been antagonistic to her dad, to Andy, a man who had given her everything she needed and never asked for anything in return. No wonder she was alone, no wonder everyone had left her, Danielle sighed, feeling another shot of pain down her left leg.

The doctor stepped away from Danielle's side, laying her had carefully down on top of the bed clothes, and moved to the end of her bed. As she wrote various notes onto Danielle's medicine chart, her eyes frequently flitted towards her patient, who had began to shake, tears streaming down her face. Sniffing loudly, Danielle asked, very quietly, as if scared to make her presence felt verbally, especially scared to utter the particular words she intended, "Where is she? Where's Ronnie"

The doctor turned her head towards Danielle properly now, and Jessica, who had been stood at the window, watching the arrival of a porter and a tall, blonde woman, did the same, "Ronnie? Who is that, my dear?" the doctor asked, with an air of concern.

Danielle looked straight down at the bed. The doctor had no idea who Ronnie was; that must mean that she hadn't arrived. She hadn't come looking for her. Did Ronnie even know she'd been in an accident – had she dreamt their phone conversation? No, it wasn't a dream. She could remember talking to her, she could remember. But, could Ronnie have hung up before the crash? Had Ronnie had enough to listening to her and hung up before she had a chance to hear what had happened?

The confusion was overwhelming; Danielle certainly could not answer the question, "Who is Ronnie?" She did not really know the answer herself. Any real mother would have been there for her. Any real mother would have been at her side when she needed it most. Danielle knew it was her own fault she was alone, but still she could not help but blame Ronnie. For not being there at that very moment; for not holding her hand; for listening to her three days before and leaving her with her dad.

"Is Ronnie a friend of yours?", Jessica asked, before turning back towards the window, through which she could see the blonde woman who had arrived moments earlier leaning all of her weight against the opposite wall and rubbing her tired looking, red face with her hands.

Danielle gulped, her eyes still trained on the bed and her voice shaking, "Yes, a friend. She's...that's right", Danielle hated herself for saying it, but at the same time, she was thankful that the nurse had given her a way out of her confusion. She hadn't had to work out what to say in reply, how to explain everything; she hadn't had to admit that Ronnie was her mother, and for that she was thankful.

Admitting that Ronnie was her mother, out loud, was something she was just not ready for. She had done it before, of course; she had told Stacey months ago. She had even talked to Archie about Ronnie, she remembered, with bitter resentment. And then there had been the Vic, she had told Ronnie. But here she was now, having bared her soul so many times; no steps further towards being reunited with her mother. Not really.

Only one person deserved to hear that admittance. But where was she?