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I have to make something very, very clear. I wanted to be with Mark dearly. So much so that yes, I was willing to give my life for him. But when you're pregnant, something changes. Something shifts within you, and you kind of stop wanting to give your life for a partner, and instead you're willing to put everything on the line to ensure that the child within you stays alive no matter what. And I was no different. I wanted very, VERY much to keep my child alive and healthy and well, even if that meant I said goodbye to Mark. 

That was the justification for why I left. That's why, the night after Mark kicked Chica across the room, I bundled her and myself and a couple of bags into Mark's full-charged Tesla, and I bolted. I knew where I was going, of course. I knew where I had to go. I couldn't stay in LA - I'd thought about Ethan, and Tyler, and Katherine... but none of them would really be able to keep me safe. There was only one woman in the whole world who could keep me safe now. With Mark recording a video, I made sure I had everything I could possibly need (including my own car keys, so it would be so much harder for him to come after me), and I left. I went. 

I knew it was reckless, driving a 31-hour drive across seven states one month away from my due date. I knew it was stupid the moment I crossed the border into Arizona, because it was so god damned uncomfortable in the heat. I realised I could stop at any time, but the irrational fear of Dark finding me spurred me on to drive until I was almost halfway there. Night had fallen, Chica was whining to pee and eat, and I felt sick and dizzy and really needed sleep too. I pulled in at a nice hotel in Oklahoma City, begged them to let me keep Chica with me (which, thankfully, they did), ate some food, fed and watered Chica, and then slept  for a while. The next day, I got some snacks from the nearest Walmart, and I continued on the way.

"It's alright, Chica," I said softly, as we reached St Louis, Illinois. "We're almost there, and then we'll be safe..." 

**

"Hey, Ethan... have you seen Y/N?" 

"No, why? Why would I have seen her?" Ethan sounded confused. "Are you alright? I thought you guys were inseparable." The smirk was evident in his voice. 

"Yeah... but she's gone." Mark sounded desolate. 

"Gone? What do you mean?"

"I mean, she's gone. My car's gone. The baby's bag's gone... Chica's gone... her clothes are gone... I can't find her purse or her phone..." 

"I'm coming over. Do you want me to call Tyler and see if he's seen her?"

"I called him already. He hasn't seen her either." 

"Alright, don't worry, Mark - we'll find her." Ethan reassured him a little more, and then ended the call. Mark slumped against the wall of the bedroom, sliding down to the floor. It was pointless. Ethan was his last hope. Y/N liked Ethan, probably because she got on better with Mika than anyone else... Since Amy's disappearance, Kathryn had been more distant with him, and as a result hadn't really gotten to know Y/N that well... it didn't make sense that she'd be with her, but he'd tried everywhere else. 

"Where are you, Y/N? What did he do to you?" Mark looked up at the sound of a soft tapping. Dark stood there in the full-length mirror, arms folded. His glare was deadly. Mark didn't move; he simply looked at him. "What did you do to her?" he asked softly. 

"I might ask you the same question," Dark hissed. "Where is she? I lost sight of her. I do not see her any more..." he shook his head, glitching a little. "Your worry for her is clouding my sight!"

"I'm sorry..." Mark sniffed. "I... I can't... I mean, I -" He leaned his head against the wall and let out a sob. "I know you've been using my body, Dark! I know you've been doing things with her - please just tell me you didn't kill her!" 

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