A/N: Hi, y'all. Here's a new chapter.

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"Alright, Steve. Let's start from the very beginning," Kate was saying. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Earlier, Steve had looked a little unsteady on his feet, so the two women had pushed him until he sat on a stool. Behind him, Dr. Colby was gently tending to his wound, a box of first-aid kit supplies lying opened on the autopsy table next to them. She had even taken a sample swab of the scratches for further forensic analysis, which Kate had promised to pay the bills out of her own pocket despite Steve's protest.

"Well…" he began, wincing as the scratches stung from the antiseptic applied by the FME. "Not much. I went to bed, I woke up. And then I realized my back was killing me."

"No, Steve. Before that." Kate rolled her eyes in exasperation. "What time did you leave the office last night?"

"Oh." Steve shrugged, and muttered an oath when that simple action caused him more discomfort. "Um…about 1.30, maybe 1.35 in the morning. Everyone has already gone by then."

"Why am I not surprised?" Kate said, slightly amused. "So did you drive straight home?"

Instead of replying, he cried out in pain, "Ow! Ah, shit…bloody hell…"

"Sorry, sorry," said Dr. Colby, still intent on her task. "I'm being as gently as I can, but this particular one is real nasty. You're very lucky you don't need stitches, Steven."

Kate saw that her partner had tightly shut his eyes as he rode the agony. She quickly grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Steve? Come on, focus. Did you go straight home after leaving the office?"

"No." Steve reluctantly opened his eyes and looked up at Kate, albeit sheepishly. "I was still too wired to sleep, so I drove around for a little bit."

"Where did you go?"

"No direction in particular, just driving aimlessly around town."

"Did you encounter anything peculiar or…I don't know…maybe things that were out of the ordinary?"

"Not really, no. It was very quiet, all the roads were mostly empty." He then frowned at a sudden recollection. "Wait a minute. There was that lady on the bridge!"

"What lady?" asked Kate.

"What bridge?" Dr. Colby also asked, intrigued by the story.

"It was the north bridge over the main river downtown. I had no idea who she was. When I first caught sight of her, she was sitting precariously on the railings, preparing to jump!"

"Jesus Christ, Steve!" Kate exclaimed in shock. "So what did you do next?"

Steve took a breath before saying, "Well…I did what I should do as a copper. I talked her out of it. And then I took her home."

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Steve

The moment my eyes landed on the slight feminine figure, I instantly slammed on the brakes. The Volvo S90 came to a screeching halt in the middle of the empty bridge, leaving several meters trail of burning rubber.

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God…

Praying hard that the woman would still be there where I had seen her, I shoved open the door and jumped out of my service vehicle. Rushing back, I was incredibly relieved to find out that the woman had not yet jump into the river below.

"Miss?" I tentatively called out. "Hey, miss. Are you alright?"

Sitting there on the railings as if she had not a care in the world, the woman did not respond. She had her back to me, so I couldn't clearly see her face. Her curly dark blond hair was flying in the breeze over her shoulders. Despite the cold, she was only wearing a pale blue cotton dress with elbow-length sleeves. She must be freezing, but she showed no signs of it.

I made my approach cautiously so as not to alarm her. "Do you mind turning around and look at me? My name is Steve. May I know yours?"

After several tense moments she finally replied, her voice so soft that I could barely hear it, "Stella."

Slowly, she turned her head towards my direction. "My name is Stella."

I blinked upon seeing her pale features, struck dumbed by her beauty. Her eyes were the bluest I had ever seen. She had a heart shaped face with a small pointed nose and high cheekbones. Her skin was pure alabaster. She could be in her late twenties or early thirties. Still so young.

What had driven her to sit out here in the middle of the night all by herself?

"Stella, are you in trouble? Do you need help?"

She gave me a sad smile with a weary shake of her head. "No one can help me. I'm cursed."

"Tell me what's wrong. Maybe I won't be able to help you, but others might. Just get off from there first, okay? Give me your hand and I'll help you climb over."

"I'm sorry," Stella said, turning forward once more.

"What are you sorry for?" I asked, growing more anxious by the minute. I watched the way she braced both hands against the railings, and I understood what she was about to do next.

"I'm terribly sorry…" She then pushed herself.

"Stella, no!"

With a harsh cry, I leapt forward and hooked my arms around her torso from behind just in time. Oddly though, she didn't give me much fight when I pulled her up over the railings onto solid ground. For several moments, I was breathing hard as if I had just run ten miles, while she just stood still in my arms and stared straight ahead at nothing.

When I was satisfied that the situation was fully under control, I released her with a sharp glare. "You shouldn't have done that. Killing yourself would not solve anything."

Stella's blue eyes burned bright with unshed tears as she stared back.

"You got no rights to judge me. You don't know me, and you have no idea what I'm going through," she quietly replied, and I was immediately chastened.

"Forgive me," I hastily apologized. "I didn't mean to sound so harsh. It's true, I don't know you, and I don't know the problems you're facing right now. But surely there is someone who can help you deal with it? What about your family? Aren't they worried about you?"

Biting at her lower lip, she was in deep thought for quite a while before she finally asked, "Can you please take me home?"

I nodded. "Yes, certainly. Where's your home?"

"It's not far. I'll show you the way."

"My car is right over there. Let's go."

I led her towards my service vehicle and pulled open the passenger door for her. Soon afterwards, we were crossing the bridge and left the city proper.

Aside from giving me directions to her house, Stella didn't say much during the entire drive. She sat quietly next to me, chewing her lower lip as if worrying about something. I left her to her private thoughts. If she didn't want to share her issues with me, that was her call. Unless it involved the law or local regulations, I could not force her to talk about it.

After leaving the main city route, we drove down a country lane that ran along the river for half a mile before it sharply turned back inland. The buildings and houses were spread further apart until the lane abruptly ended in front of a cozy double-storey cottage.

I pulled the car to a stop and looked up at the house in wonder. From its design, I figured that the cottage was built a very long time ago, perhaps at the turn of 19th century. It still stood strong and beautiful, with charming little garden out front. Clearly it had been well taken care of.

"So this is your house," I said, stating the obvious. Stella simply nodded without comment.

I noticed that lights were still up in one of the room upstairs, but no one appeared at the window at our arrival.

"Do you live here alone?"

"I live here with my family," she replied. If ever, she looked even sadder than before.

"They must already be asleep then?"

"I suppose."

Something feels wrong here, I thought with a frown. Besides my car, there was no other vehicle around. So how did she and her family go about their business with no mode of transportation while staying at a remote location? And how the heck did she get into town earlier tonight? Walking?

I decided to find out more, so I turned off the engine and said, "May I see the inside of your house?"

Stella looked at me uncomprehendingly. "Why?"

Sighing, I took out my warrant card and showed it to her. "Actually, I'm DS Steve Arnott from Central Police. I need to check your house to ensure that you're not in any immediate danger."

She gaped at my warrant card as if she didn't understand what it meant.

"Stella? Please, would you let me into your house?"

After a full heartbeat, she said, "He wouldn't like it."

"Who wouldn't like it?"

She hesitated once again. "My husband is away right now. He's a lorry driver. He's delivering supplies into France."

"Look, I understand your concern. But I promise you, I'm just following procedures as a copper. No more than that."

Without further response, she turned to push open her door and stepped out of the car. I watched in bemusement as she entered the house, leaving the front door open. Taking that as an invitation, I also got out and hurried after her.

The inside of the cottage was warm and pleasant. Fires were actually roaring in the hearth on my left. Stella was standing next to it as she gave me a real peculiar look.

"He doesn't like you to be here."

I frowned at that. "Is your husband the jealous type, Stella? I mean, is he abusive towards you?"

She didn't answer, but lowered her eyes to the ground.

God give me strength, I thought and looked around me.

"Do you mind if I go through the entire house? I need to make sure that you're completely safe."

Without waiting for her response, I quickly but thoroughly checked the lower level—the kitchen, the small study, and the room for storage at the back. Next, I went up the stairs. There were three rooms in all. The first one was clearly the main bedroom, which was empty of occupants. So was the second room.

But the third room I entered, the one with the dim lights still on, was occupied. Two young boys were asleep in their respective bed. At first, I felt surprise by my discovery. And then I was overcame with such fury that I had never felt before.

After I quietly shut the bedroom door so as not to disturb those sleeping kids, I headed back downstairs with grim expression on my face. Stella was still standing where I left her.

"The boys upstairs," I said through gritted teeth, "Are they your sons?"

Stella nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. "Yes, they are my sons."

"And you left them all alone up there, without protection, so you could go and jump off the bridge," I hissed in anger. "For god's sake, woman. Why?"

She couldn't reply, for she was beginning to sob earnestly.

Sighing, already regretting my little outburst, I gathered her into my arms and held her as she wept. When she finally quieted down, I guided her towards a sofa. And she sat there miserably, wiping tears off her eyes.

"Look, Stella," I said, crouching in front of her. "Let me call your husband. What is his name?"

"His name is Alex. Alex Morrison. I've already called him many times today but I couldn't get through. The route he takes for his trip is mostly out of coverage."

"No worries. Just give me his number."

I entered the details she gave me into my own mobile phone. When I tried to make the call though, I found out that there was no service.

Shit, I thought in dismay and pocketed my phone. "Never mind. I will try later."

I looked indecisively between Stella and the direction of the staircase, reluctant to leave her alone with the children. She still looked utterly vulnerable.

But I could hardly stay overnight here in the house, could I?

"I know you're concerned about me, about us," Stella commented when she saw my dilemma. "Don't worry. I promise I won't leave my boys without protection again."

I gave her a long searching look. She seemed very sorry for what she had done earlier tonight.

"Okay. I believe you." I nodded, and headed for the door.

At the doorway, I paused to take out my call card from my jacket pocket. I placed the card on a nearby side table and said, "This is my number. Call me if you need anything. I will come around some time tomorrow, to see how you all doing, okay?"

"Thank you, but it's better if you don't come here again. He really doesn't like you," she said with great sorrow.

I could only shake my head, feeling utterly helpless to help her. She was clearly scared of her husband. Should I dig deeper into his background then? What was his name again?

Yes. Alex Morrison.

Maybe she got stuck in a marriage with an abusive man. One of the things I hated most was a bully. So if that were the case, I would try everything I could to help her.

When I arrived at my flat later that night—or very early morning, whichever you may call it—I tried calling Alex's number again. However, I was told that the number was no longer in service.

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Kate and Dr. Colby stared open mouthed at Steve after he finished telling his story.

"Well, that was a…um…very interesting encounter, Steven," said Dr. Colby moments later.

"Yes, it was," he agreed.

"But I can't figure out how that has anything to do with those scratches on your back."

"Same here, Doctor. I wish I knew if it were connected somehow."

"Steve," Kate said after clearing her sudden dry throat. "Have you managed to contact Stella's husband?"

"I called him again this morning before I came to work. Same result. The number is no longer in service."

"Strange, that. Do you think Stella has deliberately given you the wrong number?"

Steve shrugged, too late to realize about his hurting back. Grimacing, he replied, "Truly, I don't know what to think anymore. Maybe she still wants to protect her husband, even after how badly he has been treating her."

He then noticed the meaningful gleam in his partner's eyes. "You want us to go and visit her, right now?"

Kate smirked. "You know me too well, mate."

"What are we waiting for, then? Let's go!" Steve said and rose to his feet. "Are you done back there, Doc?"

"Hold it, Steven," said Dr. Colby with a firm hand on his shoulder. "Let me put some bandages on those scratches first."

Steve stood stoically as the FME completed her task. When she was done, he hastily got dress once again.

"Here." Dr. Colby put a couple of white pills onto his palm. "Some Advils to numb the pain."

Steve popped the painkillers into his mouth without complain, washing them down with a glass of water that Kate brought for him.

"And here," the doctor added, giving Steve a note written in her handwriting on a slip of paper, "Prescriptions for antibiotics. You can get them at any pharmacies. Is your tetanus shot up to date?"

"Yes, doctor."

"Good. One less thing to worry about then. Now, go on. Both of you. It's near lunchtime and I need to get prepared for my first customer of the day."

"Thanks, Dr. Colby. We truly appreciate this," said Kate, already heading for the door.

"Don't thank me yet. Not until you tell me how this all ends."

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"Steve," Kate said in apprehension, "Are you sure this is the right way?"

Next to her in the passenger seat, Steve stared in puzzlement at the poor state of the deserted road they had taken. "This is it, I'm sure of it."

The last building they had passed was about half a mile behind, an old flour mill that was no longer in operation. The path in front of them was growing narrower by the overgrown bushes on each side of the road. But Steve could swear that it was not as bad as when he drove through it merely hours ago.

"But where the hell is her house then?" Kate cried out in frustration. "We are in the middle of a freaking nowhere! Who lives around here anyway?"

Steve began to feel highly uneasy. He had no answers to all Kate's questions. He could hardly understand all this himself.

"Just…drive until we reach the end of the road, Kate. If we don't find anything, we'll turn back."

"If I get even a scratch on my car, mate, you're going to pay the cost to fix it!"

"Fine, fine. Keep driving."

"I am." She cursed out loud when the car nosily brushed against a clump of brambles. "Christ. We're lost."

"No, we're not lost. This is the exact same path that I took last night. The cottage was at the end of the road and—there it is!"

Kate braked hard, and the car came to a jerking stop as she stared through the windshield in horror. "That's it? That's Stella's house?"

Steve's mouth had dropped open, utterly shaken by what he saw. It was indeed the same double-storey cottage, but it was also totally different now. The house no longer looked strong and beautiful, but dilapidated and totally abandoned. Some parts of the roof had collapsed. Instead of a charming little garden, weeds and bushes as tall as his head had grown wild.

Clearly, the house had been uninhibited for a very long time, a decade at least.

"Bloody hell," Steve swore. "What the fuck is going on?"

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TO BE CONTINUED…

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A/N: The story is still not over. Stay tuned for the next chapter.

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"What's going on?" – DS Steve Arnott

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* ABBREVIATIONS:

AC - Anti Corruption

DI - Detective Inspector

DS - Detective Sergeant

FME - Forensic Medical Examiner