The thick, lined drapes were failing miserably in blacking-out the glare from the spot lights that surrounded the house and gardens. Between the artificial, orange glow and the infernal ticking of the bedside clock, her mind refused to let up and allow her body to sleep. Her stomach growled, reminding her that sleep wasn't the only resource she was low on. Unable to digest both the conversation and food Briggs had offered, she'd bid him goodnight two hours earlier, retreating to her 'new bedroom'. As hunger pangs gnawed at her again, she got up, wrapping a cream, towelling bath robe she'd found, lain across the foot of the bed. Carefully, she opened the door. The corridor outside was gently lit by a small table lamp, positioned on a wooden bureau. Hannah stuck her head out and listened for signs of life. Hearing nothing but the tick of the clock behind her, she padded towards the living area.

After trying three separate doors, Hannah located the large, private kitchen for the living quarters. Decked out entirely in stainless steel and resembling a hospital kitchen she'd once cleaned, it had that same sanitised smell too. In the far corner of the room a dishwasher gurgled and droned on its last rinse cycle as Hannah rooted around the kitchen, looking for a quick snack. The refrigerator was one of the large walk-in variety, and the door seal hissed as she opened it. Met by a rush of cold air, Hannah shivered as she tentatively took a step inside and looked in awe at its contents. From floor to ceiling, on every wall, thick shelves looked close to buckling under the weight of the food they were holding. It seemed as if every type of meat, cheese, vegetable and fruit was represented in the small chilly room. All this to feed one man!

"What do you think you're doing?"

Hannah spun around to be confronted by the housekeeper, who stood at the door, wearing a dark bath robe, her hair in rollers.

"I'm sorry. I was hungry and couldn't sleep."

"Well, you should have eaten more, earlier," Maud said, reaching in, placing her hand on Hannah's shoulder and pushing her towards the door.

"Out, out, out. I'll make you something quickly. You should have been asleep hours ago."

Hannah found herself back in the kitchen, watching as the short woman set about making a sandwich, grumbling as she went.

"Sit down then," she ordered.

Hannah pulled out a high stool at the kitchen counter and did as she was instructed. "So you've worked for General Briggs a long while, then," Hannah prompted.

"I have."

"And you like working for him?"

Maud stopped spreading butter on a piece of bread and gave Hannah a her stern look.

"What's like got do with anything? It's my job; a job I'm very lucky to have."

Maud threw a couple of slices of ham onto the buttered bread, topping it with another slice from the loaf.

"W...what I meant to was, is General Briggs a nice person to work for?"

Maud tutted as she sliced the sandwich in two.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean any offence."

The housekeeper picked up the plate and placed it down in front of Hannah with a bang.

"The General's been very kind to me and my family over the years."

"Err... that's nice," Hannah replied, barely able to hide the scepticism in her voice.

Maud laughed. "Nice! It's a bloody miracle, that's what it is. I reckon I must be the only seventieth that ever graced these corridors. Until you came along, that is," she finished, pointedly.

Hannah took a sharp intake of breath. "You're Flawed?"

"No...yes...technically. My level dropped below eighty last year. The General had every right to kick me out, when he found out, but he kept me on. On a lower wage, understandably, but I'm still here; bed board and lodgings. My reward for long and loyal service, he said. So you see, I earned the right to be here. Same can't be said for you though, can it?"

Hannah struggled to swallow the mouthful of sandwich she had just taken. So it was either jealousy or snobbery that was bothering the mean spirited woman across from her.

"I think I'll take this and eat in my room." Hannah said, picking up the plate. She was too tired to be lured into an argument and while she might not want to be there in the slightest, she was passed caring what the likes of Maud thought about her.

"Very well, Miss." The housekeeper turned her back on her and went over to the sink.

"My belongings arrived today. Where are they?" She asked

"In the spare room, two doors down on the right. General Briggs said I was to unpack them tomorrow."

"That won't be necessary, thank you. I'm quite capable of doing that myself."

Hannah left the room, leaving Maud to her griping. If Hannah was to stay here, then she'd need to do something about this women, but with any luck she wouldn't need to.

Hannah located the spare room and was surprised to see it full to the brim with boxes. She'd been expecting to find the few bags she'd arrived at Diana's with, but instead Diana had sent those and everything else that she'd been bought over the last few months.

For a good ten minutes she rifled through, mentally cataloguing the contents. She opened one box, hastily labelled finer wear. As she removed the lid, compressed lavender coloured-Tulle spilled out over the top. She pulled out the dress with its satin strapless top attached to the multi-layered skirt and held it against herself. Diana had brought it as a present for her birthday and Hannah had barely even glanced at it at the time. Moving towards the door, she turned the key and checked it was locked. Quickly she removed her night clothes and stepped into the dress. With the zip pulled up as far as she could reach, she turned to look at herself in the full-size, freestanding mirror. The colour did suit her, just as Diana had said it would it fitted perfectly. She gathered up her hair, exposing her long, slender neck and stared at the reflected image that bore little resemblance to the person she was inside. In front of her was a young woman, who looked every bit the person Briggs wanted her to be: well dressed, refined, and exerting an air of confidence. The constant inner turmoil that twisted her gut and gnawed away at her conscience wasn't visible at all and Hannah drunk it in. If she could maybe fool herself, then fooling the rest of the world in the morning might not be so difficult. If only Shane could see me now.

Unsure how long she'd been standing there for, Hannah became aware of how chilled she was becoming and reached behind herself to lower the zip. She turned and leant over a little to reach it more comfortably but stopped as something caught her eye. In a box, half hidden by a rolled up rug she spied a familiar bag and approached it with a mixture of joy and terror.

Gently, she tugged on the strap, liberating the old school ruck sack which she'd last seen in the boot of Tucker's car. She dropped down to the floor and tentatively opened the buckle to find that the contents were as she'd had packed them, except there was an extra piece of paper. She unfolded it and recognised Diana's handwriting.

Hannah, your friend found and returned your bag and wishes to pass on his best regards. I hope this message finds you well. I miss you. Diana x

Tucker! She'd made him promise to keep a low profile and yet he still took a huge risk in returning a bag which contained nothing of any value. The boy really was as stubborn as she was, she thought fondly. She refolded the note and placed it on the floor and emptied out the other contents- clothes, toothbrush, even the envelope which still contained money. She took out the folded-up picture of her parents holding her as a baby, but stopped herself from looking at it. The next time she saw their faces, she promised herself it would be when they were together and free.

At the bottom of the bag, Hannah found the documents about Briggs she'd taken from the archives. She had barely looked at them at the time, just grabbing a handful in the hope they might give her more information about the man, who had barged his way into her life. She stretched out her legs, her back resting against the foot of the spare bed and began to read. The first couple of pages, was mostly a list of medicines, inoculations and basic health checks completed on John Briggs up to the age of ten. She could see his weight, height and head circumference measurements taken over those first ten years plotted onto a graph. His sight and hearing results were also detailed and from what she could make out, little John Briggs had scored the highest levels possible.

The next page, was a review of an operation he'd had to remove his appendix when he was fourteen. Following that, the subsequent pages included brief summaries of SPR reviews over the years. Hannah checked the dates, the most recent one taken the year before Briggs became the country's leader. No further records were given and she guessed they were most probably now kept in a more secure location. She looked at the most recent review, which had a small piece of paper stapled to it. Slightly yellowed, the ink had faded somewhat, but Hannah could just about make out what was hand written and what she read made her thankful she was sat down.