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┅ Ⓐ ┅

NOTE: This chapter alternates in POVs.

Day 1: Lia

"Matt I need a paper and a pen, I couldn't find any in my room," I say as I walk into his, which wasn't much bigger or different than mine, but he had a small wooden table and a chair next to his bed. There's near nothing in my room, I wanted to say.

He puts the book he was reading aside and looks at me as if I asked for a hundred dollar bill. "What? I need to write things down, just so that I don't forget them too."

"Look there," he points to the table and goes back to reading. I find a notebook and unsharpened pencils, that'll do. "Do you... do you remember anything?" he asks hesitantly.

I shake my head, "I don't."

He nods, giving me a pitiful smile, "It'll come back to you eventually sis, just be patient," he says and goes back to reading.

I pause at the door, "How did you pay for the hospital?"

Looking at our living conditions I don't think we could even afford a walk in the hallways of that hospital.

"I didn't," he replies without looking up from his book. "They told me someone called Tyrell or something like that had already paid everything and I didn't question them." 

Did he not find that strange and unsettling on so many levels? 

"Well, how were you going to pay before you knew someone had already paid?"

"Using money, we're not poor, Lia," he says and in a second he's up and brushes past me as he leaves the room. "I'm going out."

The front door slams shut and I hear the lock go in place and then total silence. Everything happened all so quickly I didn't even have time to react.

Okay?

Maybe money is a sensitive topic that I should avoid?

I shrug and walk back to my room. We're not poor but we sure as hell not rich either. Okay that was a lie; we were clearly struggling with money. Did I used to work to support the family?  What did I even spend my time doing in here before? Has it always been this way? Matt mentioned that we did move here to London recently and it wasn't in an entirely legal way. Why the hell did we move then?

It's just been one day but I already hate this memory loss more than anything in the world. What kind of accident was I in that was so bad it wiped my memories away? It's also just been a day and I hate my father as equally. I haven't talked to him at all since the car ride yesterday, and that's why I hate him because what kind of father doesn't check on his daughter who's been missing for five days?

I know three of these days I was unconscious at the hospital according to what Doctor Lucas said, but what happened in the other two days?

Thinking about what I can't remember sent me into an endless loop of 'but what happened in the first place' and gave me a headache so I tried to block out all of my thoughts and threw the notebook and pencils on my bed and headed for the shower.

Turns out I have more clothes than what was in my room, thank god, but they were in the shared closet that was kept in the living room which was also my father's bedroom.

'We're not poor, Lia'

Yeah, right! I snort as I walk into our broken down bathroom to take a shower.

Day 1: Will

"You're still thinking about that girl?" Luke thumped his feet onto my desk carelessly. I looked over at the desk's surface to make sure his boots haven't scuffed it up, and then continued to pour myself a glass of scotch.

"I pulled the entire airport's footage, nothing showed up. It's like she wasn't there but on the phone she said they were at the airport."

"Maybe she wasn't, you're overthinking this whole thing," he argued back.

"Her brother's phone is out of reach too, sounds normal to you?"

"Yes actually, that's a pretty normal thing. You need to relax, and by relax I don't mean drinking in the office."

"No I need to find her and make sure she's safe."

"Listen I found it sketchy too that he showed up out of nowhere and I wasn't convinced but then again, this is what people do when someone goes missing, they show up in hospitals and police stations looking for them. Besides, the tests are all positive, and this is what I rely on, mostly, in my job. So you have got let it go mate."

"Well, good thing I'm no doctor then huh? I rely on my sense, and right now it's telling me something is wrong."

"What are you even basing these assumptions on?"

"For one, the fact that this guy just came in and two hours later he was walking out with her, he didn't ask questions, didn't care to know what in the world happened to her. And neither him, nor Lia, have been registered on the system, whatever information he left at the hospital they're probably fake."

"Whatever Will, I'm leaving, before your boss comes here and kicks me out. You need anything before I go? Candice is coming over tonight," he seemed to be deep in thought for a moment and then said, "You know what? I think you need to get laid, take out all this tension and all."

I sigh. "Lucas, leave. Oh, and if you see Dillon on your way ask him to send me footage from your hospital, I need to get a picture of her and that's the only way."

You'd think the name Lia is uncommon until you decide to search it on Facebook.

"Sure, but I'm not riding this tension train with you. I don't even work in this Agency!" He leaves, and then pokes his head around the doorway, grinning like an idiot. "And good luck with Dillon, I heard he's a delight!"

Luke doesn't even work here and he's already acquainted with Dillon?

Day 2: Lia

Today was the second time I see our father, James. Matt told me that he doesn't come home often and when he does it's mostly way after midnight. Matt was out all day which meant I spent the day alone, again. Alone with my thoughts. I looked at the wounds on my body, hoping they'd help me remember what happened in any way. There were a lot of bruises in odd places; on my face, thighs and arms and scratches along my left arm and left side of my face like I was dragged on the asphalt on that side. 

Please remember. Please, anything... I got nothing. Not even an echo of a memory.

I was in the kitchen drinking at three in the morning when James, the poor excuse of a father, stumbles in.

"Hey kiddo, what's gotten you up so late?" He scratches his unshaved face as he scans the contents of the nearly empty fridge.

"Nothing," I mumble. "I got up a few minutes ago. Going back to bed now."

"You really don't remember anything do you?"

"What?"

"Does it feel like being drunk all the time? Or more like the hangover?"

He wasn't making any sense and for a moment I felt scared. "Why are you like this?" I ask.

"Like what? Drunk?"

"Heartless."

"When this," he moves his arm around, "is your life, you gotta cope."

"Are you even aware of this conversation we're having? Do you have any idea what's been going on for the past month?"

"Do you have any idea what's been going on for the past seventeen years of your life?" he replies bitterly. I make my way out before he can see me crying. "Didn't think so," he calls behind me.

This man is beyond cruel.

Day 2: Will

I watched as a golden ray appeared in the sky early in the morning and decided that now is the best time to contemplate my life choices instead of going to sleep.

First candidate we have is self-criticism!

Mr. Terrell, do you think it was a good idea to stay up all night thinking about Lia's case, which by the way was not one bit successful, fully aware of the long day you have ahead?

Fuck, I need to sleep.

William Terrell, at the age of 26, you do have one hell of a long list of regrets, how about you sort them out now?

Emily's case? Damn that one was a disaster.

My subconscious is the devil. And I really should get some sleep before heading to work if I don't want to get fired, although the idea of being unemployed and stress free does seem greatly appealing right now.

I check the time; it's almost six am, which leaves me with a good two hours of sleep. My subconscious doesn't even get enough time to start again with its trip down the self-destruction lane, because the second my head hits the pillow, I pass out.

✿

Eight fifteen I'm pulling up in my usual parking spot in front of ISIA headquarters. The entrance looked just like an ordinary police department, with emergency call operators and a couple of holding cells secluded in the far corner of the ground floor, the rest of the building, however, was exclusively just for ISIA agents, with an irritating, yet needed, amount of security systems and passcodes on almost every door.

The building consisted of eight floors; the ground floor, three underground containing the high-security lock-up cells and an underground garage, and four above ground floors containing the labs, offices and working and training rooms.

I find Steve in my office, with two cups of coffee on my desk.

"You're late," he remarks as soon as I enter.

"Just by seventeen minutes, spare me." I roll my eyes. "Thanks for the coffee, what's new?"

"Your friend called the office this morning; he said you weren't picking up your phone and wants you to call him back." He says 'your friend' like an insult, and I immediately know who he's talking about. Miles, my best friend whom Steve hates with passion. I check my phone while he continues talking. "Other than that, we've got new leads on the Villiers case, Marcus Villiers is a smooth fucker, we've got to handle this with more precaution, you hear me?"

"Good thing you brought Villiers up, about that," I begin and he looks at me with a knowing look, he knows I've got news, most probably bad. "I have this new case going on, something urgent, it just came up and I want you to handle Marcus's alone, is that okay with you?"

He hesitates, sighs and then nods.

"I prepared myself for worse news you know? Something along the lines of 'I set a surprise attack on Marcus's house and now they're all dead oops', but yeah, that's okay. You know that."

"Well, a surprise attack does seem like something I'd do."

I knew he wouldn't mind being alone on that case, hell, he probably wishes for that every day. It's not that working together is a pain, but everyone has got some sense of pride and when you're assigned with someone else to lead a mission it kind of lowers that. Just some fucked up ISIA agents' logic.

"What's this new case you've got?" he asks.

He'll probably act like Luke and call me paranoid if I tell him about Lia, and he'll make it harder than it already is. So I settle with a shrug, meaning I don't want to discuss it and he gets that and replies with a subtle nod.

As soon as he leaves my phone rings.

"I was just about to call you, Steve told me you called earlier," I say.

"Yeah out of the hundred agents back there Steven fucking Reid was the one to pick up my call."

Miles hates Steve with passion too.

"How's Norway?" I switch topics.

"Boring. They chose the most isolated spot on the entire fucking planet to set this research center at, it's unbelievably quiet man, I can almost hear Michael's thoughts but at least I'm away from fucking Gerard and Steve, it could've been worse, you know?"

"What's up your ass? You're in a complaining mood today aren't you? And when do you get back?"

"Nothing, I guess so and in two weeks, I have a few stops in between, how's everything back in bureau de la mort?"

"Changed your mind about calling it Doom Den?" I chuckle. He always refers to HQ with some morbid name which pisses off everyone in here.

Miles and I have been working together in the London offices of ISIA for the past ten years but four years ago Miles started travelling and staying in different countries while working on some important research, he still visited and stayed here for some time between his trips, but it wasn't the same as before.

"Yeah, death office seems more fitting don't you think? So, I heard you're closing in on Marcky, how's that going?"

"This case is all on Steve now, I told him -

"What the hell Terrell?" he interrupts. "I'm beginning to think that all your stupid decisions come to life when I'm not around."

"I have another case going on, which I need your help in right now, what do you know on amnesia? Like can you really lose your memories from a hard blow to the head or a car accident? Is it normal to forget everything but your name? I need everything you know with all the medical complicated details and shit, but simplified for non-doctors use."

"Why? What's going on?"

"There was this girl who was found unconscious a few days ago, at Luke's hospital, and she woke up with no recollection of any single memory except her name, and then some guy shows up and claims to be her brother, he takes her and they leave but I know something isn't right, he was ... he seemed suspicious," I explain, knowing that he's the only one who would actually understand me.

"What do you mean he took her and left, no tests done? Nothing?" he asks.

"Luke said the tests came back positive, he's her brother, but I still feel off about it and I haven't even seen the guy at all, but I looked him up on our system, well, I tried to, nothing came up. He isn't registered; it just furthermore confirmed my suspicion."

"Spidey-senses huh? Sorry, I mean Willy-billy senses," he chuckles at his use of the obnoxious nickname, which he finds hilarious.

"Fuck you, Miles. I'm serious!" 

Dillon walks in with his laptop in hand, he places it on my desk and leans by the door waiting for me to finish with my phone call.

"Dillon's here," I say and Dillon nods. "I asked him to pull all footage from the hospital of the couple of days she was there, if I can get a clear image of the guy I'll run it through facial recognition and maybe this case won't be as complicated," I sigh and Dillon visibly sighs as well, I look at him and he shakes his head.

"Alright man, I'll call you in two hours with all you need to know about amnesia, though I don't know how that'll help but anyway until then good luck with your case."

"I hate to be the one... bursting?... your bubble of hope," Dillon says as he approaches, and I see he's holding a small piece of paper that he keeps looking at. Is he reading what to say from that piece of paper? "The surveillance system was ... was out on the dates you wanted to check."

"What do you mean by out?" I question.

"There are many meanings for the word, depends on how it's used but in this case, an adje-

"Dillon!"

"Oh, sorry. I'm sorry I got confused, I'm so sorry,uhh ... Some sort of malfunction in the system, stopped working the day this girl was found and they just got fixed this morning," he coughs. "After I notified them."

The wheels are turning in my head, so many thoughts, so many questions. This can't be a coincidence.

"Hold on a sec," I tell Dillon as I call Luke. Dillon is repeating the phrase 'hold on a sec' in what he thinks is hushed tones, but really, he's just whispering really loudly. I try to act like I'm not weirded out by him, when in reality I really don't understand him at all. Now I understand what they meant by 'watch out for Dillon Verbatim' that was circulating around the place when he first arrived, which was only a couple of months ago. On the professional aspect, however, he has proven to be a great programming genius.

Luke finally answers, interrupting my Dillon analyzation. "Did you know that your cameras were out for the past few days?" I ask before he gets a chance to speak.

"No, I didn't. Don't tell me they stopped working right when Lia arrived, did they?"

"Damn right, now do you believe me when I say something doesn't feel right about this whole thing?"

"Nothing is certain, but I believe you, although all the tests came out positive."

"With all due respect Luke, you can shove that test up my ass if I'm wrong about this, okay?"

He chuckles, "You seem pretty confident but okay, what's your next move now that you can't get a picture of this guy."

"I need to question everyone he spoke with in the hospital and get as much information as I can of him. I'll meet you there in an hour."

✿

"Could you please be more specific, what did he say exactly?"

The petite nurse on the front desk looked like she was about to pass out any second now, she kept stammering and her hands were shaking terribly as she apologized for not knowing that the guy was likely a criminal, and I was almost out of my patience of reassuring her that it was not her fault. I get a phone call that interrupts us and I turn to Luke before picking it up.

"Calm her down man, I can't do this with her like that, all I want is simple answers to the questions not lengthy apologies and crying."

He stifles a laugh and nods.

"What in the world do you think you're doing William?" Gerard's voice bellowed through the speakers.

This is my boss being the friendly, understanding human being he is.

"Sir, I'll explain to you the situation as soon as I get back, but right now there is something I need to take care of."

"I don't want you to explain anything," he says calmly and I almost let out a sigh of relief until his voice thunders through my phone and I am almost certain everyone within a twenty-seven-meter radius heard him. "What I want is your ass back here at base with finished reports of the most important case of your career and a well devised plan of the next step, Agent Terrell. Do you understand me?"

I weigh my options; one, I could pretend this call never happen and go on with Lia's case as my priority which would result in Gerard being furious and possibly interfere with this case just to spite me, or two: follow his orders and try to subtly work on Lia's at the same time.

"Fine," I reply. "I'll be there in twenty." I hang up without waiting for his response, if he had any.

I walk back to Luke and update him with the situation.

"This is why I refuse to be part of this crazy ISIA world of yours," he says. "You guys are crazy, legit crazy."

"Can't argue with that," I sigh. "Can you gather any useful information from your weeping nurse and anyone else who interacted with him that day, and I'll see you later tonight yeah?"

"Sure thing mate, I'll keep you updated."

DAY 5: Lia

The days went by agonizingly slow. I am alone most of the time, Matt is either out or avoiding me, as much as you can avoid someone in this tiny place, and I haven't seen my father again after that night in the kitchen.

I hear Matt locking the front door; he usually returns home this time of the day to prepare food for both of us and then leaves again.

"Matt, I'm sick of staying here all the time, I want to go out."

He sighs and disappears into the kitchen, I follow. "We've discussed this Lia-

"No we have not," I interrupt. "You just said I can't go out when I don't remember anything since it may confuse me even more at the moment and staying at home isn't helping so I don't see why not."

"Because it's not safe here, does this answer satisfy you? You were almost taken once before and God knows what happened to make you forget everything so I'm not risking this again."

"So you'll just keep me locked in here?" I asked, my voice unintentionally going up.

He rubs his hand across his mouth, "No, there is something I'm working on now and if it works out we'll move out of this shit place and you can have your life back. Okay?"

I don't argue further. "Okay," I say.

DAY 6 – 9: Lia

I woke up feeling heavy; I could barely open my eyes or lift my body off the bed; it felt as if all of earth's gravitational force was gathered right under my bed, pulling me down. My face was damp with sweat and I felt nauseous and drained. I tried to get up again but to no avail, I just collapsed back on the bed and, eventually, went to sleep again.

Next time I woke up I wasn't any better, but I tried calling for Matt. It came out like a frog giving its one last croak before dying, and I got no reply. With whatever strength I had, I pushed myself off the bed and made my way to the door. What kind of sickness is this? It feels like I'm dying. I was fine yesterday, what happened?

I don't make it too far out of my room before I collapse on the floor right when Matt walks through the front door.

It feels like I'm in one endless, continuous cycle of passing out and waking up. I wake up again, groggy and disoriented; this is becoming exhausting, really. My head is throbbing, I do remember what happened last, I fainted right outside my room, but I don't know how long has passed since. I hear Matt and my father speak outside my door; they weren't making any effort to lower their voices.

"Flash news father, she isn't Tracey!" my brother was shouting.

"Like I don't know that?" my father replied. 

Who is Tracey?

I pushed myself off the bed, I needed water; my throat was scratchy and dry. I made it to the door and stopped with my hand on the doorknob.

"It's just a matter of a few days, then she's gone. Don't screw this up," Matt was saying, I've never heard him speak that way before, but then again, it was only just me and him all the time for the past week, my father was rarely around, and I never saw Matt around anyone else.

What are they even talking about? Who will be gone? Who is Tracey? 

I pulled the door open, using the wall to support my weight as I came into their view, interrupting their conversation. I made a mental note to ask Matt about it later, right now I just had to get water.  

"You shouldn't be out of bed!" Matt exclaimed, our father regarded us in silence then he shook his head and turned away, heading to the front door. I saw a gun holstered in the back of his jeans, Matt followed my line of vision until he saw what I was staring at, and he made his way towards me.

Why does my father have a gun?

My head started to spin. I was swaying in place and everything started fading away ...my father ... gun ... door closed ... Matt ... fading...

Matt's arm was around me, supporting my weight as I leaned on him. It's like the universe is set not to let me past this door without me losing conscious.

"Water," I coughed, and my eyes closed as I rested my head against his chest.

He carried me back to my bed, seconds later he was pressing a glass of water to my mouth as he helped me sit up.

"Here, take these," he handed me a couple of pills.

I wasn't feeling any better and I had no idea what was wrong with me, I wanted to ask him, but as soon as I downed half of the glass, my eyelids were closing once again, my strength to stay upright was fading and I was plunged back into unconsciousness.

The cycle continues, but I never stay awake for longer than a few minutes. This time, a cold wetness yanks me out of my foggy dreamscape. There was a damp cloth resting on my forehead, I flickered my eyes open to see a dimly lit figure leaning over me. My body stiffens as I realize it's my father, my head was pounding with every heartbeat as I tried to not show I was awake, but somehow he noticed my eyelids fluttering, "She's awake," he announced before getting up and leaving.

I slowly propped myself up to take in what was going on around me; I rubbed my eyes slowly, "What happened?"

Matt turned to face me, a cigarette in his hand. He sat down at the other end of the bed, taking one long drag before putting it off.

"You keep waking up and blacking out," he said. "How do you feel?"

"Like hell." I leaned back onto the bed.

✿

I spent another couple of days recovering from whatever that was. Matt stayed at home more and nursed me back to health. He didn't take me to a hospital, claiming it's too risky. I didn't ask questions because I was in no state to hold a conversation. 

"Do you remember anything?" he asks, as he places a glass of water and painkillers next to me.

I shake my head, "Nothing," I lie. Whenever I close my eyes there's one scene that plays in my mind over and over again; me kissing a little boy goodnight and before I leave his bedroom I turn to him and say 'I love you Max' and he blows me a kiss.

I don't know what that is, maybe it's just a dream but it keeps repeating and that makes me uneasy.

"You should get some proper sleep, you look so tired," Matt kisses my forehead and I close my eyes, only to be greeted by that vision again.

DAY 9: Will

I had Miles on Skype while I was working; he was in his hotel room, pretending to be drunk, or maybe he really was, and rambling about some restaurant's menu in Devonport.

It has been nine days with no updates on Lia's case. No one knew I was working on it except for three people; Miles, Luke and Dillon, so my resources were very limited. Steve thought I'd let it go since I came back to our shared case against Marcus, somehow I'd managed to work on both without slacking on either. 

Marcus Villiers was a step ahead of us, and his case was a fail, once again. Steve was beyond disappointed when we arrived to an empty hotel room, where Marcus was supposedly meeting with his allies to cut a deal.

This week was devilishly hectic and I felt drained, physically and mentally.

"Miles," I sigh, interrupting him. "You should sleep it off."

He snorts. "Yeah, right. Not before I tell you about their terrible lobster dish."

"You don't even like lobster Miles, just sleep it off," I repeat.

"That's what makes it even more terrible!" he says, and breaks into a fit of laughter.

I can't blame him, today marks the third anniversary of the loss of the girl he was madly in love with, his late fiancée, Camille.

It's silent for a few minutes; he's still pacing back and forth in front of the camera and I put my papers down and watch him, waiting for him to say something.

"The pain never goes away," he finally speaks as he takes a seat directly in front of his laptop. "I lost everything Will, everything for this damned job."

Now I honestly have no idea what he's talking about, but it doesn't sound like drunken talk and I make it a note to ask him about it when he's acting sober.

I think of the only thing that could lighten up the mood; his family.

"So, are you going back home soon? To see your family and all," his eyes shoot up and meet mine through the screen. "I'm thinking to finally join you and go back for a little while, I don't have anyone there anymore but ... it's been almost eleven years, I miss it back there. What do you say?"

He just smiles and doesn't reply immediately, "Sure," he says at last. "But I'm probably coming back to London next week, we'll see about the U.S. later." He looks at his hand and I'm pretty damn sure there is no watch there, Miles never wears watches, but he dramatically says, "Oh no William, It is past my bedtime, I have to go."

"Later, douchecanoe."

"Later, WillyBilly."

Just your typical conversation between two twenty-six year old agents.

DAY 11: Lia

Now that that nightmare of a sickness is gone, I decide that I will have to get Matt to take me out, somewhere- anywhere, I just need to see the streets again before I lose my mind.

"I want to go out," I say as I walk into the kitchen, where Matt is.

"Good morning to you too," he replies. "Tea?"

"Matt I'm being serious, I've been here for eleven days, and I still have no idea who I was before that, everything is ... feels ... unnatural. I want to go out. And I know you want me to give you a few days to do whatever it is you're working on that'll get us out of here but I just can't take it anymore."

He leans back, resting against the tiny stove.

"Alright," he sighs and I jump at him happily.

"Thank you!" I run back to my room to change.

✿

I stopped to look around as soon as we stepped out, a wide grin on my face. It felt strange, after eleven days of being indoors it almost felt as if life outside our place has stopped completely. One look at Matt and my smile faded; he was restless, fidgeting and looking behind his back with every move. We reached his beat-up old car and he immediately unlocks it, hurrying me inside.

"What is it?" I ask.

"What is what?" his eyes dart from the mirrors to the windows.

"You acting like we're being chased or something."

"Just over a week ago you were attacked for god knows what reason, and you were hurt so bad that you lost your memory so excuse me for being a little freaked out."

"Where was I that night? How come nobody knows what happened?" I ask.

"You were helping our downstairs neighbors move in, then you went to the pharmacy to get something, I don't know ... some shit ... Tylenol for their kid, that's what they told me. You never came back and two days later you're in a hospital. A hospital that's some good distance away from where we live and that's all I know," he replies. Nothing of what he said sounds familiar or triggers anything in my dead memory.

"When I woke up, I was surprised to know I was in London. All I knew was that I've never lived here and then this Will dude told me that they couldn't identify me because there was no information about me on their system. How long have we been here?"

"Three months, we moved after our father lost his job back there and a friend of his offered him a good one here, line installers and repairers or something like that, things didn't work out and now he's a maintenance worker and we're broke."

We stop in front of a deserted park. "What is this place?" I ask.

"You wanted to go out, so here we are," he shrugs and leans against the car.

I look around, "Did you bring me to a cemetery?"

He laughs, "No, it's a park."

"Seriously Matt? This place looks dead."

"Are you going to spend all day complaining or do you actually want to have some fun?"

We spent the day talking, he was telling me stories about our mother and trying to jog up my memory with and I just listened to him like a kid listening to fairy tales before bedtime, fascinated and unable to relate.

DAY 13: Lia

My eyes flutter open and dread courses through my body like wildfire; I just got my period and I know for a fact that this house lacks any feminine sanitary products. I get up and go to the bathroom to brush my teeth and confirm my thoughts, silently cursing at anything and everything that comes in mind.

The front door opens with its loud creaking noise and I never thought I'd be relieved to see my father, like ever.

"I need to buy something," I blurt out before he even gets a chance to lock the door.

"What now?"

God, why wasn't I born in a different life?

"I just got my period and I need to get tampons, better?"

His face scrutinizes in disgust and I direct all my mental cursing towards him.

"Wait until your brother gets back and he'll deal with you," he mutters and makes his way past me.

"Cool, I guess I'll just wait for him on your bed, sure you don't mind a few stains?"

He looks back with a grunt and I smile... he doesn't. He stares at me blankly for some time before he curses under his breath and walks back towards me and the front door.

"Let's go, I don't have all day."

Sure thing, business man.

I change my clothes quickly and follow him downstairs. This is my second time to be on the streets and it feels weird, I feel imprisoned inside my own home and whenever I point that out to Matt he says it's just until I recover, which doesn't make sense because there's a chance I might never get my memories back, and I don't think I'm looking forward to spending my entire life in that shitty apartment or wherever the hell he's moving us to next.

There's a store in the same block, which is a relief because the thought of walking a distance in this state wasn't optimal. The place is dirty and smells like rotten food and the guy on the cashier doesn't look up from his newspaper as we enter.

"Make it quick, kiddo," my father says.

I move through the isles scanning their contents, as crappy as this 'emergency-tampon-shopping' trip is, I'm actually happy I'm out.

I grab a box of tampons and walk back to the cashier; my father pulls out some cash and throws it in front of the man. He glances up at me and smirks, then his face changes into something I couldn't quite understand. He looked...terrified? I look around to see what or who scared him but I find no one else but us in the store. It all happens very quickly, the man shoves something into the bag with my tampons at the same time my father turns and grabs my arm, not very gently, and almost practically shoves me out.

"What is wrong with you?" I shout when we're on the streets.

He doesn't get time to respond before I hear a car honking and speeding towards us. I scream, he curses and seconds later Matt's car appears in front of us, his tires screeching loudly.

"You almost hit us with the speed you were going at!" I shout as I scramble into the backseat, but get no response.

"What in the fuck were you thinking?" all his anger is directed towards my father.

"She needed pads or whatever they use when they're bleeding," he shrugs and I want to shrink into the backseat until I disappear.

It doesn't take us a minute to be in front of our apartment building; Matt and my father are both glaring at each other, neither of them speaking a word.

I cough to interrupt this already awkward moment, "I really need to be upstairs right now."

✿

In the comfort of the tiny bathroom, after rectifying the situation, I grab the newspaper that the cashier guy put in the bag and scan through it. I was confused; he seemed panicked and whatever it is he wanted to get my attention to must be in this paper.

I can hear them shouting outside, nothing major happened and Matt is obviously blowing things out of proportion. I roll my eyes and look back to the paper.

All the blood drained from my face as I stared at my picture in there.

Missing .... Kidnapped ... lost memory ... impersonated as her brother ... Talon James Wilkinson

I started to get dizzy and my stomach threatened to spill all of its contents, I closed the lid on the toilet seat and sat down to catch my breath and think this through.

What... Why... How? Why me?

Who would go through so much trouble to do this?

WHY?

What do I do now?

Fuck.

With shaking hands, I fold the paper and manage to squeeze it into the tampon's box. I splash water on my face to get me out of this shock and walk out, pretending nothing ever happened as I devise a way to escape from here, unharmed.

"I remember I told you it's not safe out there," Matt/Talon was in my face as soon as I step out.

I jump back startled and he gives me a weird look, "What?" he asks, still looking at me suspiciously.

You fucking bastard!

"Nothing I'm just feeling a little sick, you know," I wave the box in front of him and make my way to my room but I notice the unconvinced look he gives me.

I'm trying so hard not to cry and ruin my chances at running away, but it is difficult acting normal around your two kidnappers whom you've spent almost two unsuspecting weeks with.

✿

I wish I could say I managed the situation well, except that I didn't really get the chance to know if I could have managed it well or not.

I stayed awake all night staring at the ceiling, the box with the newspaper shoved under the bed, as I tried to come up with an escape plan. Matt will never let me out of the house again, willingly at least. I thought maybe I could fake a serious injury that would require him to take me to a hospital, but what could I do? Stab myself?

 I don't even know why I still call him Matt when I know his real name, but in my head it's still Matt. My head was spinning with ideas, scenarios and what ifs, I didn't stop to think what got me into this situation in the first place, I could think about that later once I'm in the safety of a police station awaiting my real family. In the newspaper, there was a 'contact when found' number, but that was all there was, nothing about my family or their location and the fact that I couldn't remember that all for myself was just making it worse.

My eyes were getting droopy so I laid my head back on the pillow and closed my eyes. I can't fall asleep now. Technically, if they wanted to kill me they would have already, and that wasn't what I tried to stay awake for, it's simply the fact of being so vulnerable while sleeping in a house with two strangers who kidnapped you, in the weirdest way possible, is quite unsettling. Yet my body wasn't cooperating and I was becoming even more drowsy, so I decided to get up and wash my face.

I walked into the kitchen and my thoughts took on a darker turn. I could stab Matt in his sleep and run away. It seemed simple enough; I just don't think I could physically do that. Me? Stab someone?

I stood in front of the knife rack long enough thinking it through, logically speaking, I shouldn't have a problem with attacking a criminal, but nothing seemed logical in my situation. I picked up the knife; it really shouldn't have been this hard. He kidnapped me; I'm going to stab him. Simple....Actually no, it's horrifying, but somehow I was very calm about it, until someone spoke behind me.

"Can't sleep?" I jumped, startled nearly out of my skin, and the knife dropped with a loud clatter. My father- James was standing in the doorway. He looked at the knife with raised eyebrows and then looked at me.

I swallow the hard lump forming in my throat; my heart was hammering against my chest. "I... was hungry... and..

He took a step forward, I didn't know what to expect. James taking out his gun and smashing it against my head or shooting me with it? James calling for Matt? Matt killing me with the same knife I was just about to kill him with? So many thoughts came to mind in the few seconds it took James to step into the kitchen and start speaking. Whispering, actually. He was giving me directions to run away and I was too stunned to move or speak.

He was helping me escape?

What? 

"...three blocks from here, there's a police station. Avoid any passageways and you'll find-

He stopped abruptly and dropped to his knees, Matt/Talon was now standing behind him. James's hand was clutching his throat as blood gushed out, and then he fell sideways, his blood pooling around him.

I clamped my hands over my mouth and took a step backwards.

"Unfortunately, daddy dearest, Lia will never know what she'll find there now," Talon sighed. He dropped the knife in the pool of blood in front of James's neck and stepped over his body to stand right in front of me.

I was shaking with terror but no voice seemed to come out, however much I wanted to scream.

He just killed his own father!

"Fortunately for you, however," he continued speaking as if he didn't just kill his own father, "the trunk of my car can only fit one body, so you'll live. For now."

He slammed my head against the wall and I fell unconscious.

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A/N

I hope you liked this chapter! What do you think so far?

I didn't include much details for every day because that would be boring, so I hope the fast-paced events are fine.

Thank you for reading! xx