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Chapter 3 - Lost Hope

The two of them walked out of the airport, then looked around them warily. Neither had been here before, neither knew where they were going. Piper pulled out the map they'd purchased a few days before, located the street they needed, the one where their family were.

"Now I wish I was better at geography." She stated, looking around again. "I don't even know what street this is."

"Come on, look, the airport's here..." Paige said, pointing at the map. "So we have to go this way..."

-----

Prue watched as the door creaked open, closed her eyes desperatly. If he thought they were asleep he might leave them alone...

"Prue?" He said, in his nice voice. She stayed still and silent, trying to keep her breath steady, eventually just holding it in. "Phoebe? Honey?" She almost hated it more when he acted nice, she knew that this meant he was as drunk as hell, and that meant that when morning came, and with it hang over, everything would be much, much worse.

"Are you alseep?" He said, taking another step into the room. He moved right over to the bed, and she knew he was watching them. But after a few long seconds, she heard him walk out, close the door behind him, and she allowed herself to breathe again. Then, after checking Phoebe was still alseep, she left herself cry, silently. Why haven't you come, mum, why don't you save us?

She cried for over and hour, before drifting into an uneasy sleep.

"Daddy? Daddy, where are we going?" Prue asked, clinging onto Phoebe in the back seat of Daddy's car. He hadn't strapped them in, and he was driving fast. The two of them were flying all over the place. "Daddy?" he ignored her again. "Daddy, I want mummy, I want to go home!" Prue cried, and she flinched when he started shouting at her.

"You're living with me now, and I want you to forget all about mummmy and grams." He said, his voice dripping with hate that the four year old didn't recognise.

"What about Piper?" Prue asked tearfully.

"I... maybe we'll come back for Piper. Maybe we wont. Don't - don't think about it!"

"I want mummy!" Prue cried again.

"Tough! Mummy's dead!" He yelled, and Prue cried harder.

She woke with a start, the realisation burning into her mind. Mummy's dead. had he killed her? She remembered him hitting her, remembered her mum falling to the floor. But she'd always thought he was lying, that her mum would come and save them...

But she must be dead. Her mother was dead.

"He killed her." Prue whispered into the darkness. "He killed her..."

----

Paige looked out of the window of the bus, trying her best to ignore the travel-sickness starting in the bottom of her stomach. Beside her, Piper was studying the map again, triple checking they were heading the right way. Paige still had the paper clasped in her hands, the one with the address written on it. She'd only been a baby when they were taken, she didn't remember anything about either of them. All she knew was what she'd been told... techniacally, she was doing this whole thing to save strangers.

No. She told herself. She might not remember them, but blood is blood and they were her sisters.

She looked down at the words again, wondering who's handwriting it was. 17 Sycamore Place. The letters were slightly spiked, untidy, like it had been written in a hurry. Paige had heard all the stories, of how Victor had drank a lot, hit out a lot. She wondered if he treated Prue and Phoebe the same way she'd been told her treated their mother. Wondered if her sisters lived in fear, covered in bruises. Wondered if... if they were both even still alive. She banished the thought from her head, and instead wondered if they'd gotten it wrong, and Prue and Phoebe were perfectly happy, living with Victor in a nice big house.

"Piper?" She said quietly, wishing buses were a bit more private. "Do you think they remember us? That they even know about us?"

"I'm sure of it. Prue was four, she has to remember us." Piper replied.

"What if they're OK with him, if they're happy?"

"Either way, I'm sure they'll be happy to see us, even if they don't want to go home with us. They sent the address, didn't they?"

"They sent it to mum, though. It was addressed to her. Maybe they just wanted her to know they were alive -"

"So why send an address? Paige..." Piper hesitated, then took hold of her sister's hand. "I know you're scared. So am I. They might not want to see us, much less come home with us. But at least then we'll know. And, no matter what, me and you, we'll always have each other. Remember that, OK?"

"I will." Paige said. "Love you."

"Love you too." Piper said softly.

----

The sun was rising now, and Prue had finally drifted to sleep an hour ago, once Phoebe had woken up. Long ago they'd gotten into the habit of taking it in turns to stay awake, to keep a look out. So Phoebe looked out of the window at the sun rise, listening out for sounds of the man she'd once called "daddy".

Her thoughts turned to her mother, as they did often. She didn't remember her, but from what Prue told her, she had a picture in her mind of her. When she was younger, she'd had fantasies that the police would break the door down and take him away, and that her mum would walk in, pick her up and hug her tightly.

She'd take them home, back to the big pink house Prue had described, and then everything would be better, they'd be back home with the family. They'd get presents for every birthday and Christmas, there'd be no excuses, no Victor saying he couldn't afford any, or they didn't deserve any, or that it was too risky to buy them.

They'd go to school all the time, instead of just for a few weeks every now and then, under different names, sometimes in the wrong year, so as not to arouse suspicsion. They'd be able to make friends, the nightmares would stop, they wouldn't have to share a bed, or sleep on the floor sometimes and they wouldn't have to worry about saying the wrong thing, or doing the wrong thing, or whether the neighbours could see them through the windows.

But now Phoebe was older, and those fantasies had gone. Sure, she was still hoping, still dreaming, but she didn't belive it anymore. Even as she'd wrote down their current address, as she watched Prue write down the address their mother had made her memorise when she was little, as she slipped it into the post box, she hadn't let herself believe anything would happen. And now, it seemed she was right. no one had come. No one had done anything. They were stuck here. Victor had always said that as soon as they were old enough, he'd let them free, but now Prue was seventeen and he hadn't even named a number.

As far as Phoebe was concerned, all hope was lost.