Chance and Reason

Chapter Eleven

A/N: Things are about to get serious in this chapter, so I hope you enjoy that. In my head, I've imagined that the music playing from Camila's radio is Closer by the Chainsmokers and Chocolate by the 1975, but obviously think of your own songs!

After the call with Dinah ended, the remainder of the day dissolved into a blur. Camila allowed her head to swirl in rose-tinted thoughts of Lauren, her bliss only exacerbated by the never-ending flow of joyful music singing out from the radio perched on the kitchen work surface. Despite everything else going on, her heart still felt light as she waltzed around her apartment, belting out the uplifting lyrics to an absent audience.

It was only when the fiery orange sunset began to bleed through her blinds that the music stopped.

Her apartment was now gleaming, finally spotless after the journalist had found the motivation to complete its overdue spring-clean; and supper was on the go, a saucepan of spaghetti Bolognese filling the space with mouth-wateringly fragrant aromas. Camila was certain that she could not feel any more tranquil.

Two gentle knocks roused her from her musings.

"Camila?"

The husky whisper through the door could only come from one person.

Allowing the agent inside, Camila felt an achingly proud smile emblazon itself on her face when Lauren nodded in approval at the newly cleaned area.

"You've had a productive day," she remarked.

"It needed a tidy," Camila chuckled, "I can sleep easy in my bed tonight knowing that I have dealt with all the clutter at last,"

"Indeed," Lauren mumbled, suddenly serious, "Which is why I am sorry to have to ask this of you,"

"Ask what?"

"Pack a bag, Camila. We need to leave,"

There was a painful silence, and Camila instantly regretted ever shutting off the radio. The loss of its lilting melody seemed promptly all the more bereaving.

"I need to... why?"

With a sigh, Lauren leant over to the wall and flicked the switches, leaving the only illumination in the room the fading light leaking through the slits in the blinds. She then took Camila's hand and led her across the now gloomy room to the window, and placed a finger on the glass.

"Look down there," she instructed, pointing to a grey car parked a little way down the street.

"So?" Camila asked, shrugging her shoulders, "What of it?"

"That car has been returning to sit in that spot for the last few days,"

"And? The owner probably lives in one of the apartment blocks,"

"I thought so too... But the driver never gets out,"

A shudder of dread plunged an icy fist into Camila's gut.

"What?" she stammered, chills prickling along the back of her neck.

"The driver never leaves the car. He just sits and watches the building," Lauren repeated, guiding Camila back from the window so that they were safely out of sight, "I first noticed properly last night, when you and I were talking after you woke up, and he's still there now,"

"Have you called the police?"

"I've told Officer Mendes that I have doubts about the security of this place, but he can hardly spare any more officers purely for a hunch of mine, especially considering how busy the department is at present,"