Three hours later, Adam looked up from his laptop's screen, a satisfied smirk on his face. Stage one was done, perfect. He remembered running his plan past Derek Chancer, still not quite able to believe who he was talking to.

"Make sure you use words you normally wouldn't," Chancer had said. "Like, abuse." Adam had gritted his teeth.

"I know I know," Chancer continued. "But think about it Mr. Dawson! If you don't, it'll be blatantly obvious she didn't really say it. You have to make it look as realistic and authentic as you can. Even if it takes hours. If you really want this to succeed, it'll take time."

As much as Adam hated it, he knew Chancer was right. "Alright alright," he said reluctantly. "Does your iPod have an Email option? I could send it to you after it's done, see what you think?"

"I don't think that's a good idea. Given the fact they're still watching me and suspicious that my iPod is a damn sight more than an iPod. Use your own judgement, trust yourself. I'm sorry, I can't help you with that. That could get me caught faster than you could post it."

Adam sighed. He knew the other man was right, even if he didn't like it. It was certainly logic he couldn't argue with. "Fine, I get it. Sorry, I didn't think."

"That," Chancer said, a slight sneer in his voice. "Is obvious."

Adam opened his mouth, and then closed it again. Arguing with Derek Chancer was not a good idea. Not when he'd just asked to meet him hours previously. He didn't want that first meeting to be the last of his life.

Now, he re-read what he'd written for what felt like the hundredth time. It looked ok to him, as realistic as he could make it. Now, there was only one more thing he had to do to get this first stage of his plan's ball rolling. He opened his laptop's online store and purchased the ap he'd need for this. He'd thought about how much money this plan might cost him, so far it was just the small price for the programme and the cost of a first class postage stamp. So far, so good.

Danielle sat in her cell as night drew in, waiting for Michael to return. It appeared the killer had taken a walk. If Danielle was honest, that suited her just fine. Because it gave her time to get her crazily wandering thoughts in order. She'd already decided she wasn't going to tell him here, like this. Loomis had told her to leave it with him, so she'd do just that, see what the doctor came up with.

She found herself thinking back to the rest of her session with Loomis. It'd lasted three hours in total and by the end, Danielle had felt considerably better. She may have meant what she'd said to Loomis, she sometimes left the sessions with a headache, but this one she'd left feeling happy and like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Perhaps, because, it had.

"Can I ask you Dr Loomis, what did you find out from my College friends?"

"Ah! Now do you really want me to be the one to divulge their deepest, darkest secrets?"

Danielle laughed. "Come on, spill!"

Loomis chuckled with her. "Just that you were very outgoing with a love of music. It was your number one joy in life wasn't it?"

Danielle grinned. "Yeah. To tell you the truth…" She wasn't quite sure why she wanted to tell Loomis this, possibly because it was a good ice breaker? A piece of humour? But she'd started now so she had to finish. She wasn't the type to stop mid-sentence. "You know the band in the eighties tears for fears?"

"Yes," Loomis said.

"They're my favourite band. Always have been. But my friends used to tease me and say I should make my own band based off them and call it either…" She blushed. "Cheers for ears, or here's to ears!"

Loomis burst out laughing. Danielle could tell he was genuinely amused. She couldn't help but join him.

"Very good," Loomis said. "I like that a lot."

Danielle smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, so did I."

"Did?" Loomis asked, of course immediately noting her past tense.

She sighed. "The friend who started it, Ruby, has turned her back on me. She's the friend I told Jack about. I'm guessing he didn't tell you? I appreciate him keeping my confidence. Anyway, she told me I should've listened to her regarding Adam and I didn't, so… She said I deserved what I got."

"I'm sorry," Loomis said.

Danielle shrugged. "It hurt at first," she admitted. "But now I know who the ones are who really care about me. They're the ones who've kept in touch with me. Charlotte, Sophie and the rest. They've called and texted me almost daily while I've been here."

"Well that's good. It is indeed true then when they say your true friends are the ones who stand by you when you're in trouble or difficulty?"

Danielle smiled at him. "Yeah."

"Your friends, teachers and so on also mentioned your…" Loomis laughed. "Well one said warped sense of humour, another twisted. About how you can make jokes about your blindness very easily. Or at least you could, before…"

"Adam." Danielle finished. "Yeah, I did. I guess deep down it was a coping mechanism. Sure I had days when I just wanted to cry about being unable to see, but most of the time it was fine."

"I'm sure you did," Loomis said sympathetically. Danielle didn't take it as patronising as she may have done previously, not from him.

"Thanks," she said with a genuine and sincere smile at him. "Adam made me really feel my blindness, if you know what I mean. At first he was all nice about it, but then as time went on, he started using it against me, if you will. Accusing me of not matching his clothes correctly by colour and so on. How I hadn't washed them properly. Or there was egg shell in his food which I had to cook; you get the drift."

"I'm sorry," Loomis said again. "I don't know how he dared accuse you of incorrect colours. They're impossible for you to deal with that's just…"

Danielle got the impression the doctor was truly angered by this. Now it was her to reach out and touch his arm. "If you want my advice," Loomis said quietly. "Don't tell Michael about that. Especially the colours part. Not unless…"

This time, Danielle didn't finish the sentence for him. She didn't need to. They both knew what he hadn't said. Unless you are really trying to get him killed.

Graham Williamson slammed the door of his little council flat behind him and headed straight for his small bedroom. He was tired and wanted sleep. He checked his watch and with relief, realised he was in time for the start of his curfew. The metal teeth of the tag cutting in to his ankle was a stark reminder of it. It was also the deterrent he needed never to commit crime again. Unlike most criminals, he'd decided to take the chance the courts had given him seriously. He should never have got involved in the first place. Just petty stuff, helping to burgle a house, shop theft and so on, but it had been a huge mistake. As soon as the tag came off in three months, he was completely turning over a new leaf and leaving the criminal world behind.

He'd just got in to bed minutes later when his phone rang. He hated sleeping with the tag on, but knew he wouldn't have too much longer with it and would never wear one again. His criminal life was over. Picking up his phone, he looked down at the display and sighed. It was Adam.

Graham hadn't seen Adam Dawson for at least a year. He'd of course seen his well-publicised domestic abuse trial and it didn't make him any keener to be in his company. Graham might not want to setle down with a woman and agreed they were great for sex, but that was as far as his feelings towards them went. Otherwise, he respected the female sex. He wasn't like his… Former friend? Acquaintance? Who took it entirely to the next level? Graham didn't condone violence against women. He might not want to settle down with one, but that didn't mean they should be hurt, hated and belittled at every turn. Adam Dawson was nothing more or less than an outright misogynist. When this had become clear to Graham, he'd cut ties with him. So former friend was probably the most accurate word to use to describe him.

Graham hadn't told Adam his views of what he was doing, but was pretty sure he'd made them clear by his actions. Actions speak louder than words after all. He'd stopped hanging out with him, meeting him for drinks and the rest. By the sounds of it he wasn't the only one. Quite a few men had. Not all men were damn fucking misogynists. He'd previously wondered if Dawson was mentally ill in some way. But his actions towards a totally blind woman had disproved that. As far as Graham was concerned, Adam Dawson was just a pure evil individual.

So why the hell was he calling him now? Surely Graham had made it pretty clear he wanted him out of his life. Graham had even gone as far as to delete Adam's number. But clearly, it hadn't been done the other way round. He knew it was Adam because he remembered his number. For a second, he considered ignoring the call but in spite of everything, his curiosity got the better of him. Sighing, he answered.

Adam really didn't want to make these next two phone calls, but he knew he had to. They were essential to his plans. He closed the document he'd been working on for the last three hours and opened the second. He glanced down it critically and then nodded. It was all perfect and ready to go, as long as his chess pieces moved in the way he needed to control them to do. That was all these people were to him as far as he was concerned, chess pieces on a board.

He'd considered only putting part one of his plan in to action, but he'd since decided that to make his point properly and completely, he needed both parts to be accomplished. He would set part one in motion first, but he needed to at least know part two would be possible at a later date, within the next couple of days if all went well. Picking up his phone, he dialled the first of the two numbers.

"We have no more news to tell you Mr. Dawson," said the child's voice on the other end of his phone. "We told you we'd call you when we did. You calling too much could be dangerous."

"It's nothing to do with that," Adam snapped. "I'm not stupid sonny. I know all too well how dangerous it could be. You haven't been in court for the last fucking week! No, listen. This is something else I need you to do for me. I'll pay whatever it costs, but this has to be done."

"Hmm," said the boy's voice, sounding more amused than anything. Adam felt his temper rise even further if that was possible. "No promises Mr. Dawson, but I'll listen at least."

Jesus! Adam was glad they weren't face to face, or he would, quite possibly, punch the little twat. Even if it turned out to be a huge bloke using voice changing software after all. "Fine!" He snarled. "Then just fucking listen!"

"Of course Mr. Dawson, but you know that'll cost you too, right? A dollar a minute? So it might be a good thing, for your bank account at least, if you start talking."

"Why the God damn little… Adam forced himself not to retaliate and clamped down on his anger. He knew that alright but this was urgent.

"I need you to make me a fake ID," he said. "I have the guy's picture and know someone who looks very similar to him. They don't sound anything alike and normally that'd worry me given she's totally blind and knows voices better than most, but she hasn't seen him for years and I highly doubt she'd remember his voice that well. His name's Alex Sparks, whose picture I have. They used to go to school together. I need my fake Sparks to get in to that nut house and give Danielle a message from me."

"You know of course how big a risk that is? If you're doing it just for your own kicks Mr. Dawson, I highly advise against it."

"That's my decision!" Adam snapped back.

"Of course it is," said the voice. "But I think it's a really stupid idea."

"I don't give a fuck what you think. I'm paying you so you'll do as I say!"

"Ok," said the boy. "Whatever you say."

Adam knew the little shit didn't give two hoots whether he was arrested, so Adam wasn't even sure why the idiot was trying to advise him in the first place. What was it to him? Probably some kind of issue for the criminal underworld. Well tough fucking shit!

"Can you do it?" He asked without preamble. "I can send you the picture, but I need to know if it's possible. To make it in to a fake ID I mean."

"Of course it's possible, Mr. Dawson. But it'll cost you and we'll need at least a day to do it."

Adam had expected that and in all honesty that was fine with him, it gave him a chance to implement part one of his plan. Get rid of the protection, then stir in the fear. Perfect. Adam licked his lips as if it was indeed something delicious he could taste on his tongue.

"Fine." He said again. "Can I have an Email address to send the pic to?"

"Yes. We also need the guy's date of birth and full name at the very least. Despite what you may think, Smith's Grove aren't stupid, they do check ID's. That's the least information you need. The more you can get, the better."

"Yeah whatever," Adam said. "Just do it!"

The voice passed him the Email address and then disconnected. Adam knew he'd now have at least another ten dollar bill, but God it'd be worth it. But now for this next call. This one was going to be a lot trickier and more complicated. Not only because of who he would be speaking to, but all the underlying issues between them. But damn it he'd help. If he knew what was good for him anyway. Adam had friends who wouldn't hesitate to finish him off if he didn't. If he didn't need him for his looks, Adam wouldn't go anywhere near him. But none of his friends could do it. They were all too tall, and muscular men. Only he would fit the part. He'd do it, because his life depended on it.

"Hello Adam," Graham Williamson said. He sounded tired. "Listen man, I was just about to…"

"I don't care if you were just about to fuck a whore," Adam snarled. "You'll listen to me Williamson or you'll regret it. I know full well you've turned your back on me after the trial, secretly love bitches I suppose. But you will hear me out, or be very sorry indeed."

"Wh… What do you mean?" Graham stammered and Adam smirked. The little guy was always a fucking coward. At five four, he was very short for a man and Adam had often teased him at school, as he'd spent his whole life small. But now, it worked to Adam's advantage. Sparks was only a few feet taller and he knew only too well things like that couldn't be seen in those ID cards.

"You know damn fucking well what I mean. I have friends, Williamson. True, real friends." He emphasised the last three words, so the other man could be left in no doubt what he was talking about, or who he was referring to. "Friends who'll beat you to a fucking pulp if you don't do as I say." Adam had always suspected Graham was scared of him at school and being so small, didn't dare argue with any of the other boys. This was only confirmed when he spoke again. His voice was shaking for one thing.

"What do you want from me?"

Adam knew Graham had dabbled in petty crime; he'd heard it through the grape vine. But he also knew the little twat would never tell him about it. He also would bet on Graham wanting to put it behind him and was regretting his mistake. Hell he'd probably been persuaded, in inverted commas, by taller men to do it in the first place.

"I want you to go in to a secure location with a fake ID, and pass a message on for me."

"Why me?"

"I'm coming to that you fucking dwarf! Because you look like the man whose ID I'm using. Remember Alex Sparks, Williamson?"

"Alex… Alex Sparks? I don't look anything like him."

"Yes you fucking do, don't try and worm your way out of this! He's only a few inches taller than you. So listen up or else. You're going in to Smith's Grove Asylum with his ID and you're going to pass on a message to my blind, nutty ex Danielle Hayward."

"Um," Graham said and to Adam's anger, he almost sounded defiant now. "Think again Adam. I don't sound anything like Sparks. Danielle will be the first to realise that within seconds, duh! Voices are her way of looking! Surely you know that?"

"Fuck will she! She hasn't seen, yes fucking seen, Sparks for years. There's no way she'll remember his voice well enough to realise it's not him!"

"I think you're under estimating her," Graham said quietly. "Badly, actually. I think you're very, very wrong about that."

"Well that's irrelevant to you," Adam snarled. "This is my decision and you'll do it, or else."

"Or else what?" Williamson asked, anger flaring up now. "There's no fucking way I'm going to go in there and trick Danielle Hayward for your sick games, Dawson! What you did to her was fucking horrific! I saw the whole trial, you know! Her and Charlotte Avery! You deserved everything you got and I could tell that judge wanted nothing more than to lock you up and throw away the key! I wish she fucking had! I hate you for the way you treat women! They deserve respect, certainly more than you give them, asshole! That's why I turned my back on you! You're a fucking evil misogynist and I'll be damned if I'll help feed your fucking sexual kicks! Get someone else to do it, because I sure as fuck am not!"

It took Adam a few seconds to speak following Graham's rant. Anger was surging through him. The God damn fucking… Adam was tempted to get his friends to beat the dwarf up just for his daring to speak against him. No one spoke out against Adam Dawson, no fucking one! Man or woman! He took a breath and forced himself to calm down.

"That," he said very quietly, his voice dangerous. "Is where you're wrong, Williamson. You will do it, or you'll lose your sorry excuse for a life. I know people, Williamson. People who'd gladly kill you at the drop of a hat. Remember Ray? Tony? Much taller than you for a start and who hate your fucking guts? Oh they remember you, Graham. They'd be more than happy to see you bleeding out on the floor! You know, originally I was going to offer you money for this. But now? You can forget all about that! If you want to keep your life, whatever little there is of it with your so-called criminal exploits, oh yes I know all about that, then you'll God Damn do this!"

"I don't want your fucking dirty money," Graham snapped. "But I'm not doing it! No fucking way!"

Adam faked sadness. "Then I hope you've got your funeral prepared Williamson, you'll need it."