The cobbles of Weatherfield are holding their breath. Theo is dead. The killer is still out there. And somewhere in the middle of it all — lost, fractured, and barely holding himself together — is Todd.

A quiet storm has been gathering. Those who love him have felt it coming. His friends. His family. All of them have noticed the way he’s been slipping, the way the weight of everything presses down on his shoulders until it’s a wonder he can still stand. But love alone is not enough to save a man. Sometimes, it takes an intervention.

And so they gathered. In hushed tones and worried glances, they came together — because they all knew the truth. Todd was not in a good place. How could he be? The police were still combing every inch of Weatherfield for Theo’s killer. The man who abused him was dead, yes. But that kind of justice doesn’t bring peace. It brings questions. It brings ghosts.

One of them, with a dry edge to his voice, suggested a séance — perhaps the spirits could offer more guidance than any of them could. Another was quick to remind him that not long ago, he’d been suspect number one himself. The accusation hung in the air like smoke. But he’d been cleared. Thank goodness for that. Still, technically, he remained a person of interest — just, as he put it with a bitter smirk, not a very interesting one.

But this wasn’t about the dead man. Not really. It was about the living.

The plan, when it came, was simple in theory and impossible in practice: one of them needed to be with Todd at all times. A rotating watch. A shield of love and vigilance to keep him from spiraling further. But how do you watch a man twenty-four hours a day? How do you guard someone who doesn’t want to be guarded?

“You’d have thought he’d be jumping for joy,” someone muttered. “The man who abused him is dead.”

But it’s never that simple, is it? Trauma doesn’t pack its bags and leave when a monster dies. It stays. It lingers in the shadows of the mind, a permanent tenant that refuses to be evicted. Todd knew this — even if they didn’t.

And then — Todd appeared. He had heard everything. The carefully laid plans. The whispered concerns. The babysitting scheme hatched behind his back.

“Maybe you want to keep an eye on me because you’re worried I’ll work out who killed him,” he said, his voice sharp as a blade. “Is it like Murder on the Orient Express? You all did it.”

Ridiculous, they said. But the accusation had already landed. The seed had been planted. And in a house full of secrets, nobody could be entirely sure whose hands were clean.

---

Elsewhere, another storm was brewing.

Daniel returned, and the relief that washed over those who loved him was almost unbearable. He had been kidnapped. Taken. Held in a lockup, a bag over his head, bound and helpless for days. He didn’t know where. He didn’t know who — not exactly. But the thugs from the haulage firm? They were the ones. They thought he had evidence. More of it. They wanted what he didn’t have.

When he finally convinced them that there was nothing left — that the USB stick was gone and there was nothing more to take — he pleaded. He swore they’d have no more trouble if they just let him go. And somehow, miraculously, they did.

But the nightmare didn’t end with his release. The consequences were just beginning.

The school suspended him. Pending further investigation. Craw said she was sorry, but her hands were tied. Daniel’s father urged him to go away for a few days, to clear his head, to let the anger cool. They would take care of little Bertie. But Daniel didn’t want to run. He wanted his life back. He wanted to be normal. He wanted to stand in the light and tell the world he had done nothing wrong — but the world had already made up its mind.

“You’re full of anger,” his father told him gently. “I’m not surprised.”

But Daniel didn’t want sympathy. He wanted justice. He wanted the nightmare to end. And until it did, every conversation was a battle, every well-meaning suggestion a fresh wound.

---

And then there was Jody.

When she walked through the door, the shock was palpable. She had been missing. Feared for. Worried over. And now — she was back.

“What happened?” they asked. “We’ve been so worried