Carla couldn't let on to Roy that she was wise to his plan. She had taken her tablet in front of him, pushing it to the side of her mouth, spitting it out and pocketing it when she was sure he wasn't watching. She decided she would ask about Peter after they had eaten, she was so hungry she would risk the chance Roy had put something in her food; after all he was eating the same, and anyway as far as he was concerned her tablet was doing its job. She stayed quiet while she ate, focusing fully on the lasagne in front of her which she was finding surprisingly hard to eat, her stomach no longer used to a proper portion of food. She eventually gave up, the majority still piled on the side of her plate, and was glad when Roy didn't comment. She waited for him to clear up, busying himself with trivial tasks like he was putting off having to speak to her.

Roy watched her as he was drying up. He was becoming more concerned by the minute and was trying to decide on his next move. He had still had hope earlier that he could get through to her, but her behaviour was so bizarre; she was constantly on edge and he kept catching her glaring at him when she thought he wasn't looking, a look of pure venom that sent a chill down his spine. She hadn't spoken since they had sat at the table, he had tried some small talk while they were eating but she wouldn't engage, it was like she couldn't process what he was saying. He needed to get reinforcements but it was already late, so he concluded the best action would be to try and settle her here for the night, and reassess in the morning.

"Where's Peter? I thought he would come for me?"

She ended up blurting the question out, she couldn't wait any longer. She needed to know; it was all she could focus on. When Roy didn't answer straight away she struggled to contain her anger. But then he did respond, and that was so much worse. Relapse, rehab. There were two possible explanations, either Roy was lying to her and she was in even more danger than she had thought, or it was true and Peter's life was yet another that she had destroyed. She really was rotten to the core. She believed deep down that it was the truth, the only reason that would prevent him being with her. She needed him, couldn't live without him. She couldn't take this any more.

Michelle was about to leave the Bistro when she took the call. She dashed straight over to the café, her first reaction relief that her best friend was finally home, and was met by Roy at the door. His expression told her that things were extremely serious. Roy wasn't one to over-dramatise, and he was clearly at his wits end. She entered the flat to find Carla curled into a tight ball on the couch, shaking violently and muttering something inaudible over and over. Michelle had known Carla for most of their lives, they had been through the most horrific things together, but she had never seen her like this. She had witnessed Carla go to some very dark places, she knew she had attempted suicide before, after that bastard Frank raped her. Michelle hadn't been there at the time but was with her from a few weeks afterwards, saw the impact it had, the haunted look in her eyes had remained long after he had gone. Then there was the miscarriage; Michelle still couldn't forgive Peter for the trauma he had caused, he had ripped Carla's heart out, and it was her and Roy who had been left to pick up the pieces. Well, Rob too, but the less said about him the better. Through all these times; the flat fire, Aiden's suicide, no matter how broken Carla was, she had always been in control, even if it was of her own destruction. This time was different. Everything Michelle had been told about the lead up to Carla disappearance suggested that this was something else, that her friend was ill, and now the confirmation was right in front of her.

"Carla… It's Michelle love, I've missed you so much!"

She waited for Carla to respond, she could feel the tears running down her cheeks, but she had to stay strong, her friend needed her now and she couldn't let her down.

At first there was no reaction, and then Carla slowly lifted her head, seemingly unable to focus or understand what was happening. It was Michelle's first real chance to see the physical change in her friend, and she audibly gasped as she moved forward to wrap her in her arms. Carla didn't protest so Michelle pulled her close, gently stroking her hair, doing all she could to soothe and calm her. Roy stood back and watched; he too was struggling to maintain composure. Finally, after over an hour, Carla succumbed to exhaustion, falling asleep in Michelle's embrace.

Reassured that things were more settled for he moment, Roy went into the bedroom to make a phone call to try and get some professional help to the house. He was advised that whilst there was nobody available overnight they would arrange an urgent visit for the following morning. He also kept the promise he had made to Peter, letting him know that she had been found and he was getting her help, hoping this would give him strength for his own recovery. After a final check that Michelle didn't need anything, he retired for the night.

Michelle had no idea what time she eventually dropped off. She had intended to stay awake all night, on high alert in case Carla needed her, but she too was emotionally exhausted from the evening's events so as the night wore on this became more difficult, and then impossible. She awoke with a start as daylight was just starting to seep through the blinds, taking a few seconds to remember where she was. She felt a crushing dread in the pit of her stomach as she realised that she was alone.

Carla was gone.