Rap rap rap.

Brian's knuckles beat a sharp, haunting echo against the dented and scuffed black metal door to Leann's flat, and the sound careened back out into the still night.

Melanie worked to stay focused and not look over her shoulder at the white van a few meters down the way. The moon was clouded and it was impossible to see either Mitch or Dave. But she knew they were in there. Lurking. Waiting.

A fine drizzle further obscured the van and chilled the air. Their breath steamed as they waited for the hunted woman to appear.

Melanie had texted Leann ten minutes ago with a heads up that she and her daughter Misty ought to be ready to move. She pulled out her mobile to text again. 'It's us.'

She heard three locks slide, click, and disengage. Leann's sister holing up in the gritty part of town made the place a much safer crash pad for women on the run.

A wide pale oval with wide brown eyes and stringy blond hair appeared in the partially-opened door way. Leann cast her glance past Melanie and Brian and then let them both in.

The entry was dark, but a light shone in the kitchen at the back of the flat. Seated on a stool at the cracked and peeling orange Formica countertop was six-year-old Misty Pullings.

"It's time, is it?" Leann led them back toward where her daughter sat in a halo of yellow from the bare bulb hanging over her.

Melanie saw that Misty was reading a tattered brown book. Dishwater blond hair up in a ponytail, she wore a dingy light blue coat that looked as though it had once been the color of the sky, and faded pink canvas trainers the color of cherry blossoms drug through mud. The book was open toward the beginning, but Melanie didn't think it was Misty's first time through it.

She walked up next to her and craned her neck. "The Borribles? Why - that's one of my favorites ever." Melanie's all-knowing librarian smile surfaced. It insinuated that she knew just the book any child was looking for – and what they wanted most for Christmas as well. The young girl scowled.

"I'm afraid I had my ears clipped when I was younger. Terrible fate." Melanie pulled back her hair in illustration and offered a conspiratorial grin. "But you can still trust me." Now Misty smiled back at her. Melanie had never, never had any trouble when it came to children or books.

"We're on the run from the Rumbles."

"Mmmm. I guess that's an accurate description, Misty."

Leann came up behind them both and placed a hand on her daughter's head. "Seemed like a less scary way of putting things for her."

Melanie nodded. Brian stood with his hands clasped at his waist just inside the pool of light at the kitchen counter.

"We're ready Mel. Stuff's packed. You – " Leann scraped her eyes up and down Brian then rested them at Melanie's feet. "You can pay Brian to take us?"

"I can Leann. But I want to ask you something, if I could?"

Leann tilted her head and a frown appeared. She looked at Melanie now the way Misty had done moments previous.

"I just want to ask, Leann. You're in charge of things. We'll do whatever you want, okay?"

"Okay. Ask."

"Would you consider working with the police instead of leaving the country?"

Leann shook her head vehemently. "You want me and Misty to hang around now? Wait for Nigel or one of his mean, idiot blokes to jump out of a car some night and end us both?"

Misty didn't look up from her book, but Melanie saw her shoulders jump. Just once.

"No. I want you to be safe. I think the police can do that. I think they can put Nigel in jail, with your help."

"Why you changing your tune? Nigel offer you something to get us out in the open?" Leann's eyes darted over to Brian, and she wrapped an arm around Misty.

"You don't know me very well, Leann, But I think you know me better than that." Melanie offered a ghost of a smile, nudged her glasses at the corner and held Leann's gaze.

Leann spared another glance at Brian, who didn't look up to challenge her. "Yeah. Well."

"Think about it. You can stay in England. You can know it's over. For good. I can tell you - that's worth something."

"What if Nigel gets out, gets away – or the police cock it up?"

"I guess those things might happen. And we'd be back at square one. But if they don't, you're much better off, aren't you?"

Leann narrowed her eyes. "And what do you get out of it?"

Melanie looked at Misty but she thought of Flora. She might see this blond six-year-old again. But her chances of seeing Flora – even being able to say goodbye to her – she rated those slim to none.

"I get nothing. I get less than nothing. I may even end up in prison. At this point I don't have anything to trade the police might consider useful. But you do. And it's still the right thing to do, isn't it Leann? To try?"

Leann pulled her arm tighter around her daughter and looked from Melanie to Brian and back again.

"I gotta think about it."

"What's taking so long?" Caroline paced the break room of the Brighton police station. White-blue LED lights created deep shadows and gave a stark pale cast to everyone and everything they touched. Caroline might have looked worse for being up all night, but under these lights she couldn't imagine how.

She looked over to Robbie who sat in a green plastic chair watching her strut back and forth across the speckled beige linoleum, her arms alternately crossed or waving wildly.

Finally, Caroline sat, feet splayed in front of her. Unsatisfied, she crossed them and leaned back into her own hard chair. A back leg of it gave way an inch as she did and she jumped.

"These things take time, Caroline. Can't imagine it's easy for Melanie - trying to change the plan on Leann at the last minute."

"She shouldn't be there in the first place."

"That was her condition, Caroline. For working with the police. It was to be Leann's choice, how it all went down."

"Still. They shouldn't have let her go."

"Thrown her in a cell then, bully her into cooperating, giving up Leann's location?"

"Noooo. Of course not."

"It's going to take the time it's going to take. I'm sorry about all of this, Caroline." Robbie ran a hand over his thin hair and blew out a mighty breath, then yawned.

"Yes. Well, so am I." She leaned her elbows onto the table, rested her chin in her hands and closed her eyes. She couldn't sleep and she couldn't stand not to. Just past five am now. It must still be dark outside. What was taking so long?

Leann handed Melanie back her mobile. "What if you're both lying? I don't know this Weixel man from a hole in the ground."

Misty had moved over to the living room and was sitting next to Brian on the threadbare brown and gold checkered couch. Leann's version of 'thinking about it' had involved a shot of Paddy and Sons and a call to Sergeant Weixel.

Whiskey didn't sound half bad to Melanie. She was strung out and exhausted. But she couldn't be half as tired as Leann had to be.

"If I didn't believe the police, that they can make good on what they've promised, I wouldn't be here right now Leann. You know that. You do."

Leann looked over to her daughter. "Misty."

The girl looked up and Leann crooked her finger. "Melanie can you give us a minute?"

Melanie and Misty traded places in the gloom of the run-down flat.

Leann took her daughter over near the avocado green refrigerator and squatted down to meet her at eye level. Melanie sat next to Brian and watched her place a hand on Misty's shoulder. Misty would nod at something Leann said, and then vice versa.

She was awfully glad to have Brian with her. She knew there were police everywhere. She knew they were to be taking Dave and Mitch into custody at this very moment, but she still felt the lurking presence in her mind and in the flat. She couldn't shake it.

Brian felt solid. And Brian wasn't cross with her. He was just Brian.

She hadn't known him long and didn't know him well. But he felt safe, predictable, and solid. She hadn't been dormant those ten years in India or the couple in Harrogate. She'd been all over the internet and in touch with women's shelters across the continent. Apparently, Brian was the go-to man in the south of England when it came to getting women out of tight spots. They'd Skyped only once before Melanie had begun to trust him. Every interaction since, she'd trusted him more. He'd become a friendly face.

As she watched Leann and the small girl in the dirty pink shoes talking, she realized she didn't know what outcome she hoped for. If they wanted to run, she'd help them. She'd very likely end up in jail. If Leann cooperated, though, Melanie would likely end up in jail anyway for her past with Richie. This wasn't a win-win for her, it was a lose-lose. She blinked back tears. There would be plenty of time to cry later.

Leann put her hands on her knees, straightened up, and took Misty's hand and they walked over to the sofa.

Melanie stood to meet them. "What's it going to be, then?"

Caroline had managed to fall asleep after all, resting her forehead on her crossed arms. She jerked her head up and slammed her hands on the table as the cross-hatched glass-front door to the hallway opened.

Weixel's gruff partner, Smith, stepped into the threshold. "Wanted to let you know we've rounded them up. Man from Pulling's crew, the lady and her daughter - and another bloke, not sure how he fits."

Caroline closed her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose, and frowned. "The man – you mean the men – who work for Nigel Pullings."

"Ahhh, no ma'am. Just the one. Goes by Dave. Got him, the woman Leann, a kid, and someone called Brian all on the way in."

Caroline stared, mouth open and eyes wide and bright.

Robbie stood. "You also have another woman, Melanie Wysocki, and a man named Mitch?"

"Ahhh, not that I know of. Just telling you what I heard off the radio."

"Thank you." Robbie nodded at the man, who nodded back and stepped out.

Caroline scrambled for her mobile and clicked it on and scrolled through before she looked over at Robbie, her face lined, pale, and hollow. "But where's Melanie?"