Hey again, I'll try to update again on thursday but probably not tomorrow, I'll see how it goes. I hope you like this chapter and it should explain a bit more who these people are that have been mentioned. I hope you get who Rachel is but you might have to reread one of the previous chapters to remember :) I hope you like this update and sorry it's short again but I wanted to leave it there. Reviews are much appreciated :)

Chapter Thirteen 'numbers scrawled on it'

The click of the lock was the only sound within that room. He lived alone, he had for years. He didn't think he needed anyone else, he was happier by himself. He sat down on the armchair in the corner, pushing back his hair with his callused hands. His face was sweaty, he was nervous, constantly on edge. A knock, "No, no, no, no." He was whispering to himself, "No, they can't be here. No." He'd never been so scared. His usual confidence and sinisterness was gone. He was like a small boy, scared and alone.

"Open the door, it's James." He recognised the voice, it wasn't the shouting he was expecting, the police smashing down the door, running into the flat. No, it was someone else, someone he knew.

"James?" He sat up,

"Yeah, let me in. People are starting to stare." He rapped his hand on the wood again. The man stood up and walked over to the door, cautiously unlocking it and pulling the sliver handle down. He opened it slightly, it was still on the chain, he wasn't taking any chances. The face that greeted him looked as scared as he did. His shaking hand made it hard to pull off the chain but he knew he had to. "What the hell are you playing at? Someone could of seen me." James was shouting, pushing the man against the wall violently. The man stared back at him,

"Fourteen years old. Fourteen. There is no way you'll get away with this. James, what the hell are we going to do?"

"I went to the hospital," He took a step back, letting his breathing slow down slightly

"You what?"

"She's not going to tell anyone, I made sure of that." His confidence seemed misplaced given the current tone of the conversation.

"They'll have you on camera now, they'll find you."

"I destroyed all the evidence, they have no proof." He was desperately trying to condone his actions,

"Apart from your face." He was shouting now,

"Luke, I'm sorry."

"Do you have any idea how scared I am. There is no way I'm going down for this. They'll work out who you are. They'll work out who I am and then we're both screwed."

"Rachel, tell me what's going on?" Sam was worried, she knew this girl but she didn't know how she had come to be here and how she was thought to be called Amy.

"Sam, I'm sorry." She could barely talk, she'd managed to take the oxygen mask off but it was still hard. "He followed me and I couldn't stop him."

"Who followed you?" Sam was managing to make her voice sound calm, she'd had the practice.

"I had my friend's train pass, she's called Amy. I guess they found that and think I'm her."

"I'll go and talk to them, I'll explain what happened. They'll have to phone your parents, do you have their number?"

"It's in my phone, over there." Rachel said, pointing to the object next to her bed. "Don't tell them everything, I don't want them to worry about me." Sam smiled at her but didn't say anything else.

"Hey Sam," Linda hurried over to her, "what's the deal with Amy, how do you know her?"

"Her name's not Amy for a start, it's Rachel, Rachel Stevens. She had her friend's train pass and the paramedics must have used that to ID her. Can you sort it out on the system and call her parents, I've got the number here." Sam handed Linda a small piece of paper with a series of numbers scrawled on it, "You might also want to inform the police."

"Of course." Linda said in her usual happy tone, it seemed rather inappropriate for the circumstances.

And the ED returned to its normal chaos, new patients being brought in, new injuries to deal with. The double doors rarely remained shut, the constant flow of patients leaving them swinging back and forth, not having a chance to stop before the next person pushed against the metal handle. "Sam?" Tess was walking over holding a brown folder, "Could you take a look at the man in cubicle five, I'm querying a sprained wrist,

"Sure, whats his name?"

"Luke Johnson."

"Thanks," Sam briskly walked over to the curtain, "hello Luke, I'm Sam Nichols, can you tell me what happened?" His face looked oddly familiar to her.