Filled with the urge to do something constructive, Harry rose early. He was having his neck brace taken off that afternoon, so he thought he might explore the older part of town where the hospital was, which also happened to be where he crashed his jeep.

Having breakfasted on a chocolate bar from the vending machine outside, he went to the lobby to use the payphone. The receptionist was absent. There were no guests. Not having any numbers for a taxi, he fished out the card given to him by Officer Bennett.

He hesitated for a moment. Supposing it was just a kind gesture to stop him from blubbering…

He shrugged off his doubts and put a coin into the slot. What other choice did he have?

Cybil inhaled the aroma of the coffee and tried to concentrate on it. To clear her mind of everything. Of the nightmares that had lingered after waking. Of things she thought she had successfully buried. She had taken a hot shower to try and clear her head, but some things just couldn't be washed away.

Staying the night had been a mistake. She should have politely declined the offer and booked into a hotel. Her mother always said that you should never look back in life, presumably because she believed you turned into a pillar of salt. Cybil would rather have been a pillar of salt this morning. Bad memories lingered on the streets of Silent Hill and especially in Edward's house.

She dropped her head into her hands and wished for a distraction. That's when the phone started to ring in the kitchen. She should have wished for something a bit more impressive, to win the lottery, or just to be back home in Brahms. She pressed the green button and put it to her ear.

Harry went and sat on the curb outside. He thought the view might distract him from the confusion in his head, but it had been dull all morning and a rolling mist sat on the lake.

Hopes of a good rest had been dashed last night. He'd dreamt again. Cheryl had come to say that she was okay, don't be frightened. In another dream the older girl had come to him.

She was the one that made him crash. He was sure of that now. But why did he keep dreaming of her? He'd only seen her for a second. It couldn't be a coincidence that she and Cheryl both disappeared without a trace. She must know something about his daughter. He wanted to find her. The police weren't moving quickly enough. He decided to search for Cheryl himself, though he didn't know where to start.

The car journey wasn't helping matters. The short drive between Ed's house and Lakeview Hotel was like a step back in time. She hadn't been through the town like this since the day she left. She turned on the radio to banish the memories.

The mist from earlier this morning was beginning to lift. She had forgotten how spectacular the lake was at this time of year. Maybe her road trip wasn't going to be so bad after all. She approached the hotel and indicated. As she turned into the car park she spotted Harry Mason sitting outside the main entrance. He didn't seem to notice the car. She came to a stop and rolled down the window, expecting him to look up, but he was staring out at the water. She tapped on the horn with her palm.

The tired sounding beep made him start. He hadn't taken any notice of the vehicle as it turned into the car park. He had been lost in his thoughts. And he certainly hadn't expected her to arrive in a heap like this;

"This is your car?" he asked, trying to sound polite.

"No, it's Ed's. I know it's seen better days but Ed wouldn't loan out the squad car."

Harry smiled. It was the first time he'd done so since the crash.

"I would have expected a more expensive one than this. That suit of his doesn't look cheap. I thought he would have some spare cash."

"Don't judge a book by its cover Harry."

He got into the musty rust bucket and clunked the door behind him. The car shuddered and moved forward as Harry put on his seatbelt. The radio was on, playing rock n' roll tunes.

"Where are we going?" asked Harry.

"I don't know. It's your road trip...Are you hungry?"

"Yes. I didn't really eat breakfast."

"I know this place that has nice pancakes."

"Sounds good."

'All Shook Up' by Elvis came on the radio. Cybil hummed along. Harry smiled again. She noticed, grinned and started to sing out loud. Harry laughed and joined in. They both sang noisily. Just for a moment, he was happy.

Then came the guilt. He shouldn't be enjoying himself at a time like this. He stopped singing. Cybil noticed and stopped mid 'uh-huh'.

They drove on just listening to the old songs.

Harry entered the diner and found a booth as Cybil parked the car. The place seemed familiar, as if he'd been there before. But he supposed you could say that about a diner almost anywhere in the country, they all looked alike.

"Hi I'm Maria. I'll be your waitress this morning. What can I get you?" drawled the youthful brunette who'd sprung up beside him, chewing gum with her mouth open.

"Uh...two pancakes please. With maple syrup."

"Anything else for you sir?"

"Two coffees. Um, white."

As the waitress left him, Cybil entered the diner. She looked quite different out of uniform. He was still a little embarrassed by the Elvis incident. She didn't seem to care though, which was a great relief. She gave the impression that she was a sympathetic soul. She had already been his shoulder to cry on.

"Did you order?" she asked as she sat down.

"Yes, I got the pancakes. And two white coffees. I wasn't sure how you take it."

"You were right on the money Harry. Detective Briggs may take it without milk, but I'm not as bitter as him."

They both smiled.

"You seem to know him very well. Are you two seeing each other?"

"Oh goodness no. Not any more. We uh...we're divorced."

Harry was mortified. The arrival of the freshly brewed coffee covered the awkward silence.

"I'm sorry Officer Bennett -"

"Don't be so polite Harry. It's fine. And I'm off duty now so you can stop calling me Officer Bennett. It's Cybil."

"Well Cybil, I'm sorry. It's really none of my business."

"I said it's fine. You were very honest in front of me last night; the least I can do is be honest with you." She paused for a second, "But let's talk about more cheerful things. What do you do Harry?"

"I'm a writer."

"A writer! Wow. That must be exciting."

"Not really. I enjoy it but I'm not very good at it"

"I'm sure that's not true."

"If I was a great writer, do you think I'd drive a beat up old jeep to a sleepy American town and refer to it as a holiday?"

"Hey don't knock it," she whispered, "somebody might spit in your pancakes."

Harry laughed softly.

"Besides, wasn't Kafka an insurance salesman for most of his life?" she added.

"You know Kafka?"

"Don't sound so surprised. People from this area aren't as backward as you might think."

"Sorry. I didn't mean -"

The conversation stopped for the arrival of the pancakes. The momentary silence was accentuated by the lack of other customers.

"Where is everybody? The hotel seems empty, there are no customers in here, there's no one in the streets or down by the lake...surely there should be more people around, even off-season, in a tourist town like this"

"Not this town. There isn't much of a tourist trade here. A fire tore through the resort area a few years ago. The tourists never really came back, so they never rebuilt it. And there's a drug problem."

"Really? In a tiny place like this?"

The payphone in the diner began to ring. The waitress sighed and made her way over to it. Cybil leaned in conspiratorially.

"The last mayor was elected on quite a strong anti-drugs platform. Ed said he was really getting on top of the problem. But he died a few months ago. The hospital's been overrun ever since."

"Do you think he was murdered?"

"I have my-"

"Phone call for Cybil Bennett? Officer Cybil Bennett? " interrupted the waitress.

Cybil excused herself and went over to take the call.