A/N: This next chapter is a little short but I promise I am working on lengthening the updates. I'm still in the process of getting stuff in a decent order. Please bear with me and in the meantime I appreciate any reviews people make!

Chapter 2:

The week went quickly for Carla. She loved her time in London. Realistically she didn't need to go for a whole week as she had only a couple of meetings to attend but she thought they were a good enough excuse for her to get away from the mundane nature of Weatherfield. The luxury hotel Frank had booked her into was nice but her days out shopping was even nicer to the point where she found herself returning back to her flat that Friday with an extra suitcase full of new clothes and of course, accessories.

At the end of the day, what was the point in owning your own business if you couldn't spoil yourself every so often?

Although she enjoyed the trip, Carla was looking forward to being back in more familiar surroundings and she couldn't wait to curl up into her own bed. She changed it before she left for London as she knew there was nothing better than returning to fresh sheets after so much time away from home.

Lugging herself, as well as her luggage, down the hall to her flat, she smiled when she remembered the bottle of red that was waiting for her just a few steps away. She stopped and deposited her bags just outside her door and unlocked it. Carla didn't even need to step foot into the flat to see what a mess it was.

'I definitely did not leave it like this!' She thought to herself warily. As quietly as she could, she dug around in her handbag before she came across what she was looking for. The canister of pepper spray was cool to the touch and as she positioned her finger over the 'trigger', she quietly tip toed into the flat.

The living area was quiet, no one was within the vicinity which did not help to still her nerves. Forgetting about her luggage, Carla continued to walk through the open plan space and proceeded down the hallway towards her bedroom.

The factory owner took in an almost inaudible deep breath before exhaling and bursting into her bedroom. The room matched the bomb site her living area had become and right there in the middle of her queen sized bed lay a child! A sleeping child at that!

"Who the heck are you?!?!" Carla exclaimed shrilly.

Rachel's eyes promptly snapped open and she sat up in the bed, wide eyed. "CC! You're back!" The child pointed out the obvious.

Carla scoffed. "CC?" She questioned.

Rachel got out of the bed but made no move to walk towards the adult. "Yeah. That's your name right? Carla Connor? Hence the CC." She shrugged nonchalantly as if it was perfectly normal to be found in a strangers home and bed.

Carla put the can of pepper spray back into her handbag as she glared at the child. "Never mind who I am. Who the bloody hell are you?! And why are you in my flat?!"

Rachel beamed, a cheeky glint in her eye. "Names Rachel. Nice to meet you, CC." She held out her hand as if offering it to Carla to shake.

Carla looked the child up and down and shook her head. "No one calls me 'CC'." There was a moment of awkward silence as Rachel's hand flopped back down beside her. The two stared at each other unsure as to what to say or do next. Carla soon resolved the issue though and she physically and figuratively shook her head again as if shake herself back to reality. "Just get out will ya'?! How did you even get in?!" Why was she even giving this child, a stranger to her, the time of day?!

Rachel opened her mouth to reply but Carla was quick to interrupt. "Do you know what? I don't even flaming care how you got in." She fumed as she took a few quick steps towards the girl and grabbed her by the upper arm rather tightly before marching her towards the exit of the flat.

"Ow. Ow. Ouch! Let me go!" Rachel whined as she tried to shrug the woman off but Carla wouldn't relent.

"Ha! Fat chance of that happening. Go on get out. Before I call social services. Where the hell are your parents? I should call the police. Do you know what trespassing means?!"

"No!" Rachel somehow managed to find the strength to break free and was quick to run and grab her trainers by the coffee table and hoodie which was slung over the back of the couch. "Please. Don't call anybody. I'll go! Just…please don't call social services."

Carla gave the girl another once over with her eyes before huffing and swiping some hair out of her eyes. "I'm not going to call anyone. I just want you out of my house!"

The little girls face suddenly became sad and tears brimmed in her eyes as she scanned the living room. Carla felt sympathy towards the girl but her cold hearted facade quickly hardened herself. "If you're not gone in the next five - no - three seconds, I will call the police. So go on, get out of here!"

Rachel jumped and without anymore words or puppy dog eyes, she ran out of the door almost tripping up on the luggage that was still sitting out in the hallway.

Once she was sure the strange child was gone, Carla yanked her belongings inside the flat, took a quick glance down the hall before stepping back into her home. She slammed the door shut with a loud 'bang' before locking it and putting the chain on.

She couldn't believe what she had come home to. The raven haired woman almost pinched herself in the hopes that she was just dreaming but she knew she wasn't.

For the rest of the evening, Carla spent her time tidying up the mess the kid had left in her wake before settling herself in front of the TV with a glass of red wine. She grunted unamused as she realised the TV had been left on the Disney channel. Sneering in disgust, she was quick to change it back to her preferred channel which just happened to be one dedicated to true crime documentaries.

However, no matter how many episodes of 'Why Wives Kill' she watched, Carla couldn't get the sight of that child out of her mind. On one hand, it was as if Carla had felt something deep within her awaken but on the other hand, she just wanted to forget it ever happened and get on with life as normal.

Something was telling Carla that 'normal' would never look the same again after that afternoon.