Adam heard a knock at the door. "Hey bitch!" He yelled to Charlotte. "Get the fucking door!" When she opened the door, a Sheriff was standing there with an envelope in his hand. "May I speak with Adam Dawson? Is he home?" the Sheriff asked. Stuttering, Charlotte told him to wait a moment and she would get him.

Adam then marched to the door, opened it roughly and shouted "What?" The Sheriff showed him the envelope and said, "You are being served a subpoena, please sign here." Shocked, Adam signed for the envelope and closed the door.

Dear Mr. Dawson, this is a formal subpoena to appear at Haddonfield Court this Wednesday to give your testimony in the case against you for Domestic Violence and Abuse against Ms. Danielle Hayward. Failure to appear will result in your arrest.

Adam stared at the letter, anger rising in his stomach along with a twinge of dread. He quickly stifled the latter. They wouldn't be able to prove a damn thing. He was safe. His tightest alibi being Danielle was now in a nuthouse. Charlotte's text to her could also work in his favour. Nope, he was safe. Just try, you assholes, he thought. You won't be able to send me down no matter how many of her bitch friends try.

…

"Do you need me to show you the call button again?" Joanne asked ten minutes later as she guided Danielle back into the block, Dr Stark walking behind them.

"Yes please," Danielle said without hesitation. The sedative Dr Stark had given her started to kick in and as a result she could think, but she was still badly shaken up. The old her was gone. She would've again said no. But after what'd just happened, she wasn't taking any chances. If Michael hadn't pressed his for her…

Michael. 'What the hell did he think of her now?' She'd fallen to pieces. She mentally winced.

Wait, said that quiet little voice in her head. Why do you care so much what Michael Myers thinks?

Because I think I trust him, said an even quieter voice. Don't start this again, she shouted at herself. Don't! It was bad enough for the last fucking week! Just except it! He's shown you kindness, just except it for fuck's sake!

They were almost at her cell when she squeezed Joanne's arm, the signal for her to stop. Joanne stopped and turned to face her.

"Are you still here Dr Stark?" Danielle asked. Now was no time for embarrassment.

"Yes," Dr Stark touched her arm. "I'm right here."

"You know," she said, not keeping her voice low this time. She didn't care, they needed to know the truth and if she was honest, so did he. "I wish Michael had strangled me instead of Jefferson. I'm only alive because I was found and dear God, sometimes I wish I wasn't. I think I'm getting too emotionally involved with Michael and that terrifies me. At the same time however, I love it and want more. But damn it I also wish Michael had just killed me right there and then in the damn yard! He's a killer after all! Why has he treated me like he has? He holds my key out of here and yet he hasn't used it."

She got no further in her rant because that was when she was pulled against a cell door by the hand. Myers' other arm was through the door at such an angle so as she wouldn't make contact with the hard metal. Myers tightened his hold on her as she automatically squeezed back for all she was worth.

"I think that's your answer," Dr Stark said. She heard Joanne's 'Aww' and it sounded as if she was blinking back tears. "What have I told you about feelings? You can't control them. Nor can you let Adam control your life. You have to try to move forward, one step at a time."

Michael squeezed her hand again then released it. She started to move back to her own cell when there was a buzz and his door opened. She only knew this for certain when his arms came around her. She couldn't stop herself as she pressed tightly against him.

"I rest my case," Dr Stark said. "Go on Michael."

Myers led her into his cell, then the door was closed and locked. This time she had no room for embarrassment, fear, shyness, whatever it was. She clung to him as if she never wanted to let go again. After a minute, she heard the cell block door closing as Joanne and Dr Stark left. She and Myers were alone in his cell.

"I… I'm sorry," She began. "I didn't mean for you to hear all that. Well, I did, but, oh fuck! I can't thank you enough for…"

Myers led her to the bed and softly pushed her down, before lying beside her and pulling her close to him. At the same time, he raised his free arm and took her hand in his. She started crying at what he did next. Slowly, he guided her hand up, so it was resting on the light switch then the call button. Michael Myers was showing her where it was. This small but kind gesture had touched her beyond belief. "Thank you," she just managed to say through her tears. "Thank you so much!"

Michael squeezed her hand again before releasing it and putting both arms around her, holding her tightly. Before she knew what she was doing, she started to speak, and it all came pouring out. Now it was too late to turn back.

"Damn it Michael Myers, what are you doing to me? You're in my dreams, thoughts, and life! Every night before I go to sleep, I think about you. The last couple of nights when you've been next door to me, I've longed for you, needed you, wanted you. A few days ago, I actually had a dream that you killed that fucker Jefferson and that was before you actually tried to do it. I'm so scared of getting emotionally close to you, especially when you consider the fact, you're… Inclinations make Adam look kind," she actually faintly smiled at him then. "But I can't stop what's happening to me. I've tried to tell myself for the last week it's just because you've shown me some kindness the first in a long time, but I can't think like that anymore! Michael I…" She swallowed and cleared her throat. It suddenly felt very dry.

She felt him hold the plastic glass against her mouth then. She didn't even think, just trusted him. As he tipped it back, she gladly accepted its contents into her dry throat. The water was cold and felt good.

"Thanks," she said when he drew the glass back. She leant into him and for some reason found herself whispering into his ear. She knew it was totally pointless as they were alone, but she couldn't help it. It was something she'd longed to do with Adam, and he'd let her, just once to make her think she had the perfect man and then…

She forced those thoughts out of her mind as she opened her mouth and whispered into the ear of a cold-blooded killer. "Michael Myers, I think I'm starting to trust you, have feelings for you and if I'm not very careful, I feel like I could end up falling in love with you."

…

Danielle lay in her cell the next night, feeling utterly like shit. How could she face him now? After she'd told Michael how she felt, he'd held her close for the rest of the night. She'd loved it and desperately desired more, but her stupid fear was still getting in the way. She'd confided as much to both Joanne and Dr Stark in tears the next day, who'd both said the same thing. "You can't let Adam ruin your life; you have to live. You're still alive, so you have to try and live it. Of course, it'll take some time, but that's why you're here and we're here to help you."

She knew they were right but a small part of her still tried to fight it. She wanted to tell Michael everything about the dream she'd had about him, not just his killing Jefferson, the other part too. But she couldn't. For the second time when out in the yard she didn't try to cross his line. She knew it would come across as cruel, but she was afraid of being rejected all over again. 'Plus, why would Michael Myers even care? He was a cold-blooded killer.' She had to remember that. 'He had no reason to care.

On the fourth day after he'd held her, Joanne guided her out into the yard as usual and she took her usual walk with her cane, alone. For the second time she accidentally stepped across Myers' yellow line and again only realised it when he grabbed her and once more pushed her up against the concrete block. This time though, she could almost feel his fury. Fear clamped down on her heart. 'Not another angry man, not another angry man,' the mantra running through her head over and over again. Please… somehow, he must've sensed her fear because he loosened his grip on her a little. But he made no move to hold her or even hold her hand, which told Danielle he wasn't happy at all. What was worse, she was pretty sure she knew why.

"Michael…" She started but he briefly touched her arm and she understood. He didn't want to hear it. He pushed a piece of paper into her hand and then she heard the clinking of his chains as he stepped away from her. Danielle walked back to Joanne, blinking back tears. When they reached the cells later Michael made no move to approach her, walking straight to his. Joanne guided her towards hers.

"Can you wait just a second please?" she quietly asked her. She pulled the door almost closed then turned to Joanne and handed her the piece of paper. "Michael gave me this just now in the yard," she said quietly on the verge of tears. "Please can you read it to me? I know it's not going to be good… He's furious with me Joanne and I think I know why…"

She couldn't help it. She collapsed into Joanne's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Joanne held her for a moment before pushing her softly to the bed and opening the letter. She was silent while she read it and then she began to speak.

Danielle, While I totally understand why you are afraid, has it not occurred to you that I, too, have never felt anything like this before? Your want to be close to me one moment then not the next, is confusing me. What are you afraid of? Are you afraid I'll do what he did to you? Or is it yourself that you're afraid of? Afraid to trust me because of him? I understand both angles, on this you need to believe and trust me. I do. I know it scares you and I get it, but how can I help you if you don't let me? Just think over what I have written.

M.

Damn she'd deserved that and was surprised he hadn't written it in a much worse way. He could've and she knew it. But he was trying to be gentle while at the same time getting his point across. She felt like a total bitch, even more than she had before he'd given her the letter. She pressed her face into her pillow and let the tears fall as soon as Joanne closed the door.

…

Danielle hardly slept that night. When the breakfast buzzer sounded, she was once again ready for it. Feeling like the biggest bitch ever, she headed out of her cell with Joanne and towards the dining room. Michael was right. She shouldn't treat him like that. That in itself was a form of abuse just like what Adam had done to her. She felt like she was no better than him. She could see the mixed signals she was inadvertently giving him, and it wasn't fair to him. He had every right to be angry, hurt even. So now she had to show him she trusted him. God knew she'd tried to deny it for long enough, but now that she'd told him she had to prove it and constantly running from him was not the way to do so. If he let her have that last chance that was.

She debated walking across his line, so she did, softly calling his name. She heard the clink of chains which meant he was there, but he didn't make any move to come closer. He was still angry. Blinking away tears she stepped away. God, she hated herself right now. What kind of woman was she? He wasn't Adam, even though he made Adam look like a saint, he wasn't Adam. He hadn't subjected her to the living hell her life had been for the last year, so how could she do this to him? In fact, he'd been nothing but kind and gentle towards her. A killer. The irony didn't escape her. But shit she needed him. This served her right. She wanted to be in his arms so bad it hurt. She re-joined Joanne who softly squeezed her arm, doubtlessly seeing the pain etched on her face and her now falling tears.

She had shown the letter to Dr Stark the day after she'd received it and Dr Stark had sighed, softly squeezing her arm.

"Danielle," she'd said, and she had simply said "I know, I'm a bitch."

"While I wouldn't use those exact words," Dr Stark said. "You must remember that he's not Adam. Don't say he's a killer, we all know that. But between you and him it can't play a part. You can't let it if you want to explore the closeness you and he appear to have found. Killer, whatever. He's still a man. You are seeing a side of him that no one else has so for you to keep running from him I won't lie to you is a little unfair, maybe even selfish. 'You close to me one moment and avoiding me the next is not pleasing me' he says. That's not a threat to your life, that's the words of a hurting man. He obviously feels something for you and like I told you when you first told me, you should try to explore it. But running from him will not help you and may not help in your recovery either. Mr. Myers could be a key in helping your healing, but you need to do some of the work yourself too."

…

She stood in the yard, trying desperately not to cry. All she wanted to do was to curl up into a ball and do so until she had no tears left. She didn't want to move again. "Can I go back in please?" She asked Joanne. The doctors had decided when she first arrived that the design of Smith's Grove, deliberately designed to confuse patients if they tried to escape, would mean she wouldn't have a chance of finding her way back so she would always be guided.

"Sure," Joanne said, beginning to guide her back in. She hated not having her independence, but sincerely hoped that once she was out of here, if she was ever out of here that was, she could get at least some of it back.

They had almost reached the doors when she tripped over something and hit the hard concrete, hitting the back of her head. She immediately felt dazed and groggy. She tried to stand, but her legs were shaking too badly. What the hell had she fallen over?

"You son of a bitch," she heard someone shout, then the loud clinking of chains. "Let him," she heard another man's voice say. It sounded like Dr Loomis. Again, Danielle tried to stand up but was still shaking too badly. She felt the warm trickle of blood running down the back of her neck.

"Fuck, that was great," said the nastily familiar voice she now had no trouble in recognising. Jefferson. She could hear guards wrestling with him. "I had to do it; I've wanted to do that since she got here. Stupid blind bitch! If she'd just given in and let me fuck her, I wouldn't have done it. Doesn't even like a man paying her tits a compliment. She deserved it."

That was when she felt gentle arms around her as someone knelt at her side and heard the clink of chains once more, a lot closer this time. "Michael?" She breathed. "Sir?" The word had just slipped out before she'd realised it. Had the guards unchained him from his block so he could help her? She felt his other arm come around her, holding her tightly before his soft, warm hand raised her head and she felt someone kneel on her other side. Joanne. "Just having a look sweetheart," the guard said. "Do you want a stretcher? Are you ok to walk?"

"I… I don't know," Danielle said truthfully, tears streaming down her face. "What… What happened?"

"Jefferson deliberately stuck out his foot," said Dr Loomis. Danielle could hear his open contempt. "I'm so sorry. Are you ok?"

"It's not that bad of a cut," Joanne said. "We just need to bandage it. Do you want to try to walk or…"?

But Joanne got no further because Myers stood then and slowly lifted Danielle up into his arms, so he was carrying her. It was only then she realised with shock that they'd removed his chains so he could do just that.

"Sir, I'm so sorry," she sobbed against his shoulder as he carried her into the building. "Every word you said in that letter I deserved! God, I'm as bad as Adam but in a different way! You didn't deserve that! It's not your fault I'm scared. You didn't do what Adam did to me! You've been just the opposite, showing me nothing but kindness and care and I treat you like that? Sir, I'm so sorry! I don't deserve you to do t…"

Michael tightened his arms around her as he carried her into his cell. "Sir," Danielle begged. "Don't do this just because of what happened. If you're still angry with me, I…" Again, he stopped her by slowly laying her down on his bed. Joanne entered the cell holding a first aid kit and began to clean and bandage the cut. She hissed in pain; Michael's hand took hers.

"Sorry sweetheart," Joanne soothed. "Nearly done."

It felt like forever, but finally Joanne was finished, and the door was closed. She knew it was time for the truth. All of it.

"Sir," she started but Myers squeezed her hand in his. When she tried again also saying 'Sir' He once more stopped her with a squeeze, and it was then that she understood. He was telling her not to call him "Sir."

"Well, if you squeeze my hand every time, I do then I'll keep doing it," she said with a small grin. He just pulled her close. She took a deep breath. This was it.

"Michael Myers, I'm so sorry! I…" Again, he squeezed her hand. Taking another deep breath, she started to speak.

"Mr. Myers…" Myers squeezed her hand again, stopping her. She raised an eyebrow. "Michael?" The killer squeezed her hand again and Danielle couldn't help the affection which swelled inside her at this very small but kind gesture.

"Michael," she started again and felt his arm tighten. "My name is Danielle Hayward; I've been totally blind since birth and I'm here because I tried to hang myself following my ex-boyfriend Adam Dawson abusing me for the last year. He raped, controlled, assaulted, and basically treated me like shit. His philosophy in life is that women only live to serve men, make their dinner, have sex with and so on. I had absolutely no control of my own life, money, who I spoke to, friends, you name it." Slowly she raised her face. "That huge scar?" She touched her right cheek. "I got that when Adam slashed my face with a knife while he was raping me because I was talking to another man, even though the man in question was my tutor."

Michael made no response except to squeeze her hand again, holding her close. "Thanks for caring about me, I really appreciate it. I know what you almost did to Jefferson, I hope that wasn't on my account. He's a sexual predator, but I'm used to them by now Sir…" She took a breath. "Michael."

He squeezed her hand again and Danielle felt her heart swell to the point it would burst. A cold-blooded killer was acknowledging the fact that she'd corrected herself from calling him Sir and the effort it'd taken. She could hardly believe it. As a result, it wasn't long before her eyes were drooping, pure exhaustion taking over.

…

"Ok then, thanks for letting me know. I'll see you guys in the morning. Thanks so much. Night."

Charlotte put down the phone and sighed. At that exact moment two emotions were battling in her heart. Relief and feeling like the world's biggest bitch. Relief because she'd be out of this house soon and away from this abusive bastard, a total bitch because Danielle had been right all along, and Charlotte had let her desire for Adam rule over her friend's hell. She vowed when she was in her own place, she'd text her friend and beg her for her forgiveness. Looking at her phone she scowled, still not believing Adam had made her text Tim back at 3 AM because he'd committed to Adam the huge transgression of daring to call her "Babe." She had to put that right sooner rather than later.

She ran through a mental list of everything Danielle had said, comparing it with her own experiences with Adam. He makes me call him Sir. Check. He checks my phone. Check. He tells me what I can and can't wear. Check. I can't talk to friends or family. Check. Nope, all in all, Charlotte Avery had to admit she was in a pretty shit situation, and she should've been there for her so-called best friend. Some friend she'd been.

Glaring at herself in disgust in the living room mirror, she promised herself that as soon as she could she'd make it up to Danielle for the rest of their lives. She was the one in the wrong here, not her friend. For the first time Charlotte was starting to realise that perhaps Danielle had had a damn good reason for trying to hang herself that day. Ohan, he treats me like a sex toy. Check.

But in the here and now, Charlotte knew what she had to do. She'd just got off the phone with the police, who'd informed her that Adam had been remanded back into police custody and that they'd be helping her get out of his house the next morning, but she was safe there overnight. For a moment she was tempted to just leave, but she didn't own a car so that would be a foolish idea and a cab would be too difficult, she had too much stuff. They'd also told her that Smith's Grove (the hospital Danielle was in) had designated some of their own Domestic Violence Advisors to help her in whatever way they could. It seemed Danielle had raised the alarm for her. That made Charlotte feel even worse than she did already.

With a heavy sigh, she picked up her phone and dialled Tim's number. He deserved an apology. It was time to start fixing the damage Adam Dawson had done to her life.

…

The Shape stood at the bars of his cell, looking out of the small window set in the ceiling towards the exercise yard where Danielle Hayward was currently standing. He could just about see her through the glass. What the hell was he doing? He was Michael Myers, the one his own doctor had described as 'pure evil' 'there's nothing left.' Yet here he was, looking out of the window at the very woman he couldn't stop thinking about. He was seriously starting to believe that the first thing he'd felt upon meeting her had been sympathy. Of course he hadn't realised it at the time, but when she'd accidentally crossed his line and asked, 'Are you Mr. Myers?' Genuinely having no idea if it was him or not, it'd got to him in a way he couldn't explain. Why else had he touched her arm in answer, not just ignored her and walked away? As far as his chains allowed anyway.

Not to mention he hadn't let it end there either. He'd held her hand the next time and pressed his own call button when she'd had her panic attack. He'd heard her say to Joanne that she hadn't been able to find it. That touched him. Must have. Because why else had he taken her into his cell with him and held her that night? Not to mention had shown her where the damn call button was?

He suspected it had something to do with the fact that she was so vulnerable. Physically as well as mentally. He'd suspected even before she'd told him there was a man involved in the reason she was here, hence why he'd written 'are you scared to trust?' But that was another thing. Why did he care if she trusted him or not? Or even if she was giving him mixed signals? Why had it made him feel… Whatever it had, to the extent that he'd written that damn letter in the first place?

He couldn't deny one thing though. She was very vulnerable. Vulnerable and innocent, just based on the facts of the little she'd told him and that she couldn't see. Perhaps that was why he'd wanted to help her. She had her own scars as did he. When Jefferson had deliberately tripped her with his foot, that'd angered him more than he would've believed. As had before when Jefferson had openly sneered at her. He almost killed him the first time and wouldn't hesitate to try again, but this time he'd succeed.

One thing was certain. He, Michael Myers cared about Danielle Hayward. He wasn't thinking they'd see each other again once she left here, he wouldn't call her a friend, (he'd long since given up hope of getting out without escaping,) but he would do his bit to help her while she was here and recovering. Whatever that was…

…

"Ok," Dr Stark said as she and Danielle sat in the therapy room with the security window open and the speakers off. "You may wonder why I'm doing this and think it is pointless, but will you work with me here?"

Danielle raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" She said slowly. "In what way?"

"Will you tell me a bit about yourself and your life before Adam? Likes, dislikes and such?"

"Um, ok?" She was puzzled. How would this help in her recovery? But then she reasoned, Dr Stark was the doctor, not her. "Then can I make one small request of my own?"

"Go for it."

"Can Joanne be in here for this? If she's going to be guarding me while I'm here she should probably know too."

"Good thinking," Dr Stark chuckled and stood. To Danielle's gratitude, Joanne was there within a minute.

"Hi," Joanne said, and Danielle felt affection rise in her chest, she couldn't help it as Joanne sat next to her on her side of the window. Mind you she's armed, she thought. She could shoot me before I even touched her. That's probably why.

"Ok," Dr Stark began. "Tell us about yourself."

"What do you want to know?" She asked, suddenly feeling nervous for some reason.

"Whatever you want to tell us," The floor is yours.

"My name is Danielle Jamie Hayward, I'm 19. I have been totally blind since birth. I was born fifteen weeks premature with only a 15% survival rate. Somehow, I beat it," she gave them a small smile. "But my parents didn't want me. Oh, they did their part when I was a child, but it was always clear they didn't really want me. You know, on days we went out, they'd ignore anything visual and not really describe it to me, if we were with a group of their friends I'd be put in a corner and not really spoken to as if they just wanted to keep me out of the way, so I wouldn't bother them. Their friends would say a brief 'hello how are you?' But never much more than that. It was as if because I'm blind I was also stupid." She laughed a little sadly.

"I got mercilessly bullied at school because of it. You know, hiding my books, pushing me in holes in the playground, writing obscenities on my homework, all that stuff. Bending my cane at one point. My parents, I don't think they're very happy that they had a blind daughter. I was, to use their exact words, 'less than perfect.' They texted me telling me 'This was goodbye, and they didn't want me as their daughter anymore."

"I'm sorry," Dr Stark and Joanne said together. Danielle smiled a little more genuinely this time. "Don't be. I've had years to get used to it, plus I was expecting it at some point to be honest. They only ever got involved in my bullying if it ended up costing them money. I mean when that boy bent my cane, they spoke to his parents forcing them or him to pay up. Canes are about $50 each. Otherwise, they didn't care what was happening. 'Kids are kids,' they'd say.' Basically, I felt like they were just telling me to get on with it and grow up before my time."

I met Adam Dawson at college. I was studying English Literature and met him in one of the student cafés. You know the usual. He was really nice to me at first making me think I'd found love, then as soon as I moved in with him, bam! Everything changed. I had to call him Sir, give him my bank card, you know the drill."

"I do indeed," Dr Stark said. "I'm so sorry. But let's move away from Adam for a moment. Tell us. What do you like?"

"In what sense?"

"Anything. Food, hobbies, etc."

"I absolutely love white chocolate," She admitted. "It's my biggest weakness. I can't stand coffee though," she smiled at this one. "I smell it a lot around here. Just the smell puts me off. It's vile." Dr Stark and Joanne chuckled. "I'm a tea drinker all the way."

"I love pasta, carbonara being my all-time favourite. Love fruit and vegetables, hence why I always have an apple or banana for breakfast." Joanne touched her hand. "All types of yogurts… I loathe tomatoes and sprouts…" She pulled a face.

"So do I," Dr Stark and Joanne said in unison, which made all three of them laugh.

"As for my hobbies, I really like soccer, books and movies, my favourites are from the horror and thriller genres. Shopping, meeting friends and theme parks. I um… Also have favourite sounds I like hearing," she said, blushing.

"Really? Like what?"

She debated for a second, but then realised she had to be honest with these people. They were clearly trying to help her after all. That's what Dr Stark had told her at least twice. So, she'd have to play her part and tell them the truth. "Whistling. I really like when people whistle," she muttered, embarrassed.

"That's unusual," Danielle could tell the doctor was smiling. "Any particular reason for it?"

"My grandad used to whistle a lot when I was a child. If mom and I were out shopping, I'd always know he was in the store because he'd be whistling. I'd tell my mom that he was there, and she'd say that he wasn't, but then a few minutes later we would see him. I know you don't want me to talk about him, but Adam used it as part of the abuse. If I'd done what he wanted for a week he would whistle for a second, but that was all. At first, he whistled all the time, just to make me think he was a nice guy. But then…"

"We'll come back to Adam," Dr Stark said. "Your granddad whistling in the store is a nice little story. Any other sounds?"

"Someone eating apples," Danielle said. "I like the crunching sound."

"To be fair that is a nice one," Joanne chuckled. "I like that too."

"What about touch? You obviously use your hands to touch objects, is there a particular object you like touching?"

Danielle blushed bright red, feeling her face heat up. It was clear that they had seen it because they both laughed. "You're as red as the tomatoes you hate," Joanne teased. "Do tell?"

"I… Um…" Danielle hesitated. "This stays between us, right?"

"Absolutely," Dr Stark said seriously. Doctor-patient confidentiality."

"I have a thing about ears," she said so quietly she wasn't sure if they heard her. That would be ironic. Not hearing her talking about ears.

"Really?" It was Joanne who asked. "Why?"

"Charlotte and I met when we were children, her parents were always kind to me. They would touch and rub my ears if I was in distress. It always comforted me. Plus, well… I like touching other people's ears. It really turns me on if a guy has nice ears."

"Hmmm," Dr Stark said thoughtfully. No judgement in her voice whatsoever. Danielle was grateful that they didn't make fun of her. What they thought privately she'd never know but they weren't judging her to her face at least. She knew they were too professional to talk behind her back of course.

"Adam of course let me touch his ears and whistled, just to make me think he was the perfect guy, before… He showed his true colours. Like I say, I really want to see Charlotte protected from him. I can't let him do to her what he did to me."

"I promise you that won't happen. We've already got DV Advisor's contacting her to arrange a face-to-face meeting."

"Thanks," she said, more grateful than she could ever tell them.

"The police are helping her move to a DV refuge today," Dr Stark said. "She'll be perfectly safe."

"For which I can't thank you enough," she felt a lump in her throat. "You guys moved so fast… Thank you."

"It's our job," Dr Stark said, laying a soft hand on her arm as did Joanne. "It's what we're here for."