"There's nothing you can do, Rita."

Charlie watched as Rita paced the floor, her eyes upon the window.

She refused to glance in his direction. She knew that. And she knew that there was nothing that she could do to halt the dawn ebbing it's gradual way into daylight. She couldn't think straight, her head was filled with only one thought – Connie. And yet somehow that one thought became fractured and twisted and fragments of it splintered out in her mind, confusing her and terrifying her all at once.

She gripped more tightly onto the polystyrene coffee cup that she was holding, but her hands were too cold to feel, resisting the warmth that struggled to seep into them, and she looked hurriedly away as she caught a glimpse of herself in the window. She didn't want to see her face, what if it made all of the other faces come back?

She was shaking, she realised, noticing the tremor of her hands as she looked anywhere but the window. The caffeine had made no difference to her exhaustion. Her brain was throbbing from tiredness, from constantly searching for any sign that Connie was alright, like a mobile phone seeking a signal when all is lost... But like the phone signal, Connie was out of range, unreachable. She would either come back, or she wouldn't, and the not knowing was killing her.

"Rita?"

Charlie's voice made her jump. Her stomach shifted uneasily and she noticed that the arm that she had wrapped around herself, hugging herself was pinching her skin. She let it fall down to her side and then, without knowing what to do it it, she clasped and unclasped her hand as if in constant need of touch and reassurance. But what she needed was to be able to touch Connie...to be touched by her...

An inky darkness seemed to engulf the frail light of early morning...another storm, she realised...another storm to diminish all of the happiness and bliss that had risen with the sun.

She blinked, keeping her eyes closed for slightly longer than usual. Now only silence lingered in the air, the only noise a sudden sigh of anxiety that fell from her lips, and her eyes flickered open again, settling on Charlie. He looked back at her, no smile offered, just the vague nod of his head. He seemed to have withered with age in only a few hours.

A muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of her right eye, her mouth formed a rigid grimace. This fitfully stormy morning would either see the return of her whole life, or snap her dreams in two.

Zoe cleared her throat, breaking the silence, the noise louder than any of them had expected and she flicked the kettle on to boil for the fifth time that morning. They were already filled to the brim with coffee and wired with caffeine, but she busied herself with getting the cups ready nonetheless and another quick glance at the clock on the wall only seemed to confirm that time was slowing down, and again the knot in her stomach twisted.

"The police will find her..."

Charlie seemed to speak through the thin film of silence from a distance, as though he had begun to fade away completely.

Rita looked across at him.

"Yeah? What, dead?"

"Rita!"

Zoe looked up, frowning. Rita let her gaze wander to the door, she hadn't really meant to say it out loud... she drew in a trembling breath and narrowed her eyes as she stared through the glass in the door, as Connie had done so often. The ward beyond glittered and blurred and she blinked hurriedly.

"Come on...it's Connie! There's plenty of people who would feel sorry for the kidnappers..."

Zoe attempted humour but it fell flat and Rita folded her arms tightly about her chest and looked again to the door.

"The police.."

She murmured, catching sight of two officers in uniform approaching the room. She reached the door just as they did, opening it before they could knock.

"Have you found her?"

She asked before they had the chance to say a word. The female officer with blonde hair tied back in a bun shook her head, her blue eyes full of pity.

"No, can we close the door?"

She asked quietly.

Rita murmured an apology and moved back so that they could come into the room.

"I've just been speaking to a Dr Keogh? He received a phone call as we were arriving."

"What sort of phone call?"

Charlie cut in, his voice hoarse. The police officer shot him a glance and pushed her hands into her pockets, drawing in a breath before she spoke.

"From an unknown man. One of the kidnappers, with a shopping list for your pharmacy in exchange for your clinical lead."

"What?!"

Charlie exclaimed, standing up without really knowing why.

"She's being held to ransom?"

Zoe asked, leaning back against the desk.

"Looks like it."

The male officer cut in and cleared his throat whilst he pushed his hand into his pocket for his phone.

"We've also collected information from The Table, a woman matching Mrs Beauchamp's description was seen leaving late yesterday evening with this man."

He showed Rita the picture on his phone screen.

"Who's that?"

She asked, shaking her head and looking from the screen to the officer.

"I was hoping you could tell me"

"I've never seen him before."

The officer looked back at his phone and used his finger to select something else.

"Eliot March, he's a high school English teacher...or at least he was until yesterday."

He read from his phone, before turning it back to face her, the picture of the man's face still there, looking back at her.

"What do you mean?"

"He was made redundant."

She was still looking at the photo, blinking against the glare and scratch of tired eyes.

"Oh...is that relevant?"

The officer raised his shoulders in a half shrug.

"Could he be one of the men from the sexual assault?"

Rita visibly flinched, her scalp prickling, her skin flushing cold. She looked at the picture of him...Eliot March...standing beside a little girl who had her face blurred out. In front of her was a birthday cake with seven candles all alight. He was standing slightly awkwardly, arms across his chest, leaning to one side as though he thought he might succeed in escaping the shot. She looked at his knuckles...no dotted tattoos. He was wearing dark rimmed glasses and his dark hair was pushed back from his face as though he'd recently run his fingers through it.

"No."

She whispered.

"Are you sure?"

Though she couldn't quite bring her mind to picture the faces of the men, she knew that he had not been one of them.

"I'm sure."

She said quietly.

-.-

More soon, thank you for all the previous reviews. As always feel free to review again to let me know what you think! xxx