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Amy felt absolutely numb. She didn't know what to think or feel anymore - aside from horror, and, despite that, a strangely calm acceptance.

There was no denying it any longer. Angelica, the young woman of whom she'd been dreaming for so long was *her*... Not a figment of her imagination, not even another woman she somehow shared some eerie psychic connection with... Angelica was *her*!

She sat stone-still on the edge of the hotel bed, her breathing surprisingly calm. She remembered everything from the session and that the doctor had even remarked that it was highly unusual for a patient to recall everything so clearly their first visit.

"Ames..." Adam knelt before her on the floor, his hands gripping hers. His sharply handsome face wore a look of great concern. He was probably afraid she'd been suddenly struck catatonic. But she wasn't, and, slowly, calmly, she shifted her eyes so that they met his. "... I need to show you something," he went on. His large hands felt so warm. They gave her comfort in spite of the unimaginable things she now knew *she* had endured nearly four years earlier. This man always made her feel safe... If she didn't have him... No, she didn't want to consider that option. Although... what was going through *his* head now? Maybe he would decide he didn't want anything to do with her. Why would he want to marry a woman who'd been raped - soiled, defiled - as *she* had been?

"Ames?" the blond man repeated again. He was beginning to get damn scared. She'd looked into his eyes when he'd spoken her nickname the first time, but she hadn't really responded, and then she'd sort of spaced out - not that he could blame her, given everything they'd found out today.

She stared blankly into his eyes, causing a sick feeling to hit the pit of his stomach. Somehow, he had to make her see what was being done in recent weeks - that someone was playing a sick game to set her off - and he had to find out who was behind it.

The redhead blinked, her voice so soft as it issued forth, he had to lean closer to even hear her.

"I'm Angelica... It was *me*!"

Adam's heart broke. In fact, it downright felt as though it were shattering in about fifty-million tiny pieces.

"It was me," Amy repeated, a strange, hollow inflection in her tone. "*I* was held prisoner in that basement for nine days... *I* was raped."

The tall blond man winced, swallowing hard. Amy was saying these things, though not showing a whole lot of emotion in the process. It was damn heartbreaking, not to mention even a bit... scary.

"I have to show you something," he repeated after a moment. He reached into his bag near the bed and pulled out the object he'd found under their hotel bed a couple of weeks earlier - the tape recorder. He held it up to her, making sure she actually saw it. "I found this," he went on, "under our bed at one of the hotels recently." He shook his head. "Ames, someone is playing a sick game, pretending to be... that bastard who... who..." He couldn't bring himself to say it.

Amy simply stared at the audio device, unblinking. Oddly, she showed no signs of fear, in vast contrast to her last reaction to it.

"Someone *planted* this thing," Adam elaborated further. "It looks like someone's taking pleasure in tormenting you - and trying to drive you insane..."