I genuinely had no idea who Sylvie was at the end of the last chapter either, I just thought I'd put something random in and hope for the best :P Possibly not the best policy when writing a story but I'm not a great one at following policies (had you guessed?) Thanks to anyone who's read, reviewed, followed or even favourited so far, it's much appreciated and I hope you're all still enjoying it! I know I dedicate every chapter to Meggi but this one is, again, for Meggi and (she has to share again!) my third niece who was born two days ago but my brothers first child, Louisa Esme.

Disclaimer: Per usual, if you recognise it and it's not Isla or Sylvie, I don't own it.

I decided to bung two points of view together, hopefully you'll get where they change but it goes from Yvonne to Zoe briefly and back to Yvonne because Zoe is currently one of my favourite characters and she demanded to speak halfway through, if only for a few paragraphs! Oh, and this chapter is a bit longer than the others have been, which is good…

When I got the call from the school saying Isla was having what looked like a nervous breakdown my heart sunk and I'm sure if someone else had been there they'd have seen my face fall and know something was wrong. I felt tears prickle in my eyes and when I said 'Ok, I'm setting off now' I could've sworn my voice was trembling all over. As I put the phone down I sighed, leaning against the counter. I ran a hand through my dark hair and tilted my head backwards, trying to take in what I'd just heard, trying to digest the information that made me so worried. I thought she was getting better, I thought everything was going to be back to normal soon.

I couldn't have been more wrong. I immediately begin to wonder, was I missing obvious signs of this happening? Or was it discreet? Could the rest of the world see Isla's mental state declining and had I completely overlooked the fact that my sister, the girl I claimed to love was on the verge of breakdown, of panicking herself silly. I have to shake myself out of these thoughts but even as I seize the car keys from the side I can still hear the niggling thoughts, the questions that fly around in my mind chattering to me. They aren't shutting up but I have to push them away, I have to be strong. For Isla, for Nick, for myself.

I realise when I get to the school that I have no idea which classroom is Isla's and how I get to it, so I resort to finding the reception and asking for her class. I rack my brains, which currently seem to have been thrown into mayhem, trying to remember Isla's class name. '5H' I whisper to myself as it floods back to me 'she's in 5H' I see a sign directing me to 'reception' and follow it. It takes me to an automatic door entrance and as the doors slide apart I feel myself beginning to tremble already, a dry lump beginning to form in my throat.

'Hello, how may I help you?' a plump lady at the reception asks me, spinning round on her chair to come to the little window between her office and the foyer I'm currently stood in. I pause for a moment, trying to recompose myself but I can feel dizziness coming on. I shake my head and turn to the lady, who has an expectant bordering on encouraging look upon her face. 'Are you looking for a teacher, pupil, certain class?' she asks and I can see her getting peeved; I'm evidently trying her patience.

'Um, Isla Rippon' I say 'I'm looking for Isla Rippon, she's in 5H I think' the lady smiles at me, twirling on her chair to face her computer screen and begins to tap on the keyboard, the rings on her fingers tinkling together and the keys clacking away. I hear her mutter Isla's name under her breath and watch as she scrolls down a list of pupils, a list of the pupils who are, I'm assuming, is class 5H.

'Ah yes, Isla Lucy Rippon?' she says 'born' she begins but I don't let her finish her sentence, cutting her off before she has time to rattle off Isla's birth date in that posh, smug bordering on patronizing tone she's been using to address me.

'Yes, that's her' I answer 'what classroom is she in?' I ask, perhaps sounding pushy but I really couldn't care less, when Isla's potentially having a breakdown I think there are more vital things to think about than manners. And besides, I'm sure I come across as pushy to most people, no matter how often I try to explain it's purely because I care, perhaps overly so.

'Well, her classroom is just along that corridor' she points to a corridor in the direction of my left 'and to the right, then it's the classroom to the left, though you should be able to see because there's a sign up saying 'Welcome to class 5H' on the door. I am about to push through the door when I realise this door has to be activated. I turn to the lady, incredulous as to why she hasn't allowed me through and just as I am about to ask her why she doesn't unlock the door for me she says in a sickly sweet voice. 'I'm afraid I need a form of identification so I know who you are'

I role my eyes, annoyed that I am being made to take far longer than necessary just to enter the school. I rummage in my handbag and yank out my license, shoving it onto the table. She takes a look at it, as though trying to see if I really am the person in the image (though there's no real question about it) before nodding. 'Excellent' she says and I see her push the button, a buzz occurring simultaneously.

'Thank you, finally' I say, shoving the door open and rushing down the corridor. I see the sign but there doesn't need to be a sign for me to know which class she's in, I can hear her crying, sobbing, screaming. And I don't think those sounds will be leaving me any time soon.

: :

I've just finished clearing my stuff out of the office when Nick gets the call. I watch him answer it and find myself noticing the way his facial features change; how his brow furrows and his mouth slowly begins to droop, the corners gradually turning down. I see him shake his head and I can hear his answers, his voice slowly getting more frantic, asking questions like 'Is she OK?' and 'Where is she?'

I begin to feel panic mounting in the room, not just his panic but mine too and when he puts the phone down I find the first question tumbling from my mouth is 'is it Yvonne, is she injured?' he shakes his head definitely, and snatches up his brief case with one hand, his coat with the other. 'What is it, Nick?' I ask, knowing something must be very wrong for Nick to be like this. 'Please, tell me' I beg with him as he starts to rush out of the office. He stops at the door and turns back to me, looking me straight in the eyes, the look on his face pained.

'You're in charge Zoe' he says, his voice thick through tears 'I don't know how long I'll be gone for' he adds as he sees me open my mouth to ask him the question he answered himself. I can see the hurt in his eyes; the distress but before I have the chance to ask him again he's gone, hurried off. I lean back on the desk, picking up a bottle of water from beside me and taking a large gulp. I shake my head and find that, despite having just drunk my throat feels drier than ever. I push away from the desk and place a hand to the side of my head, trying to work out what just happened there, and what's happening elsewhere that's caused Nick so much panic.

And even though it's the first sign of madness I murmur to myself 'what on Earth has happened Nick?'

: :

'Isla, who's Sylvie' I ask, stroking her forehead, moving clumps of hair out of her face. She just shakes her head, sniffling and swallowing loudly. 'Isla, we can't save Sylvie if we don't know who she is or where she is' I say, trying to somehow coax an answer out of the small girl who lies in my arms. The prospect of Sylvie not being 'saved' is obviously one that distresses Isla greatly as when I imply Sylvie might not live, she instantly dissolves into helpless tears; sobbing into my chest, clinging onto me. 'Ssh, it's alright' I say, trying to somehow placate her. I decide not to ask any more questions until she's calmed a little and seems less vulnerable. At the moment, I fear anything I do or say could set her off, reignite the fear that's obviously been lurking in the back of her mind.

Her sobbing soon quietens and transforms into quiet crying. She looks up at me, her grey eyes large and round, still sparkling with tears. I can see little droplets of tears resting on her eyelashes and I notice her normally rather pale skin is blotchy and red, stained from the crying. Her eyes, aside from being wider than normal, have become red and bloodshot and her nose is running. I wipe a loose tear from the side of her cheek and she says to me. 'Sylvie's still with dad' she tells me, her voice sounding as though it's walking on a tightrope, trembling and uncertain. 'But he never hurt her' she shakes her head at me 'because he always had me to hurt instead'

I feel a haze of uncertainty pass over me. 'Isla, you know Dad's been arrested, don't you?' Isla looks up at me sharply, shock piercing through her eyes. She shakes her head. 'Isla, I told the police what he'd done to you, don't you remember that big interview you had when they asked you what he'd done?' I ask her and she swallows, her eyes becoming even wider. She slowly nods but I see the tears begin to bunch up in her eyes all over again and I can feel her fear flooding back as she begins to tremble from beginning to sob all over again.

'But if they took dad, I don't know where Sylvie is' Isla shakes her head, her grey eyes filled with fear and confusion, tears beginning to emerge. 'I don't know where she's gone.'

Yay! I now know what's going to happen in this story and it actually gets really rather sinister… Please read and review and please excuse the no doubt many mistakes.

-Checky x