“Shania, honey, breathe.”

Lucy is kneeling in front of me, my hands in hers, squeezing tightly.

Scarlett and Ellie are sitting beside me, because Slater called in a little extra help after I lost it.

They don’t understand. No one does. Nobody except Lucy. She knows, god, she knows just how it feels for me to find out my child is living with Yana. Yana. Fucking Yana. A child that was taken away from me, without choice. A child I’ve only held in my arms for a matter of minutes. A child that should be with me, not her.

Has she raised him?

Has she been the mother he was snatched from?

Has Nicolai managed to crush my soul even more?

“I can’t,” I tell Lucy, panting with such emotion I can barely think straight. My head is spinning. My whole body a broken mess. “She’s raising my child.”

“You don’t know that. Not for sure. We’re not even certain that she is living with him. For all we know, they could just be friends.”

“She is ... she is ...”

“Slater said that they only found out she was there, but there is no proof that they’re together, it just looked that way. And even if they are, honey, you have rights. We’re going to get your son back, we’re going to make sure of it.”

“He probably thinks she’s his ...”

“Hey,” Lucy says, her voice firm and strong. She’s always so strong. “You’re his mother, and we’re going to figure this out. Do you understand me? I won’t let him be taken from you again.”

Scarlett reaches over, squeezing my free hand, and I look to her. My eyes searching hers, desperate for this all just to go away. Then I glance at the men standing and watching me. Lincoln called them straight away when I told him that the little boy, the sweet little boy, is mine. I guess he didn’t really know how to handle it. I can’t say I blame him. It’s not exactly the kind of situation that is easy to understand.

They’ve all got questions. I can see it.

But I just want to find my son, to find Nicolai, and to take back what’s mine.

He had no right to take him from me. I know that I suffered. I know that I wasn’t who I am now. I know that I was young. But it was my choice, too. It was something we had discussed. I was going to give him up for adoption. I was too young to be a mom. Well, that’s a lie. I wasn’t too young, but I certainly wasn’t mature enough. And, I was a stripper. A damned stripper. I wasn’t in any position to be raising a child, and neither was Nicolai.

We fought so much during my pregnancy.

We shouldn’t have been near each other, let alone me having a baby to him.

But he made sure I had everything I needed. He was good to me. But the fighting got to us. It took us down. It brought hatred into our lives. We fought and we argued, and I became so stressed that my son was born five weeks early. We had both agreed to adoption, but the night I went into labor, we had the biggest fight yet.

He changed his mind.

I told him we couldn’t even endure a pregnancy together, it would be unfair to both of us to try and raise our son. He would be better off being adopted out. Nicolai ran a strip club, how in the hell did he think he was going to raise a child? Sit him in the office while he organized what girls were going to dance next?

And me, I had no money, no career, and I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be a good mother.

I knew it.

And it killed me. God did it kill me. Every day I wondered if I was making the right choice for my son, but I knew that I was. He deserved a stable, loving family. I couldn’t give him that. And the guilt, oh the guilt. Nicolai thought it was easy for me. It wasn’t. I cried myself to sleep every night, just wanting things to be different, so I didn’t have to give my baby away.

But the decision was the right one, at the time.

And Nicolai decided he didn’t want it, that he wanted his child, and that he was going to take him if I didn’t want him.

He was acting like I was just throwing him away.

I wasn’t. God. I just wanted him to have everything. A family that I didn’t. Parents that I didn’t. The kind of love he deserved.

I loved him, with every single piece of myself.

But I knew I wasn’t ready.

Nicolai pushed, he told me he wasn’t going to sign the papers. We got into a huge fight when I told him he couldn’t just take my son, that he couldn’t just change his mind. That we were talking about a child, not a puppy. He refused to budge, and the fight was so intense I went into labor. My son, who I didn’t even get to name, was born that night. My perfect little son. I refused to let Nicolai in the room, I refused to let him have anything to do with it, I was going to adopt him out, because that’s what was right.

The night I got home, he begged to come over. He told me he’d sign the papers, he just wanted to see his son first.

I agreed.

He arrived, and for a moment, for a heartbreaking moment, when I saw him staring into his eyes with love and adoration, I nearly changed my mind. I thought maybe, just maybe, we could make this work. I could clearly see that he loved his child. I was going to talk with him, maybe we could come up with something. I felt hope, like maybe, just maybe, we could be good parents, and I could keep my darling boy with me.

When I woke up the next morning, my baby was gone.

And so was Nicolai.

I called the police, and we looked. Oh, did we look. Nicolai had sold the club when I was pregnant and handed it over to new owners. And we spoke to those owners, but they had no information as to where he might be. Nicolai was the biological father, and they couldn’t track him down, and eventually, I guess they got bored. They told me they were still looking, still doing all they could, but I knew they weren’t. And now I know why. Nicolai isn’t even his real name. Of course they weren’t going to find him. And being the father, why would they try too hard? It could be worse, right?

I sunk into depression.

I’m ashamed of it.

The desperation I felt, when every day would pass and my son still wasn’t returned, nearly broke me. I tried, oh, did I try. I wanted my baby back. Days turned into nights, and weeks into months, and I couldn’t cope any longer. At least with adoption, I knew he was okay, loved, safe, and well. With Nicolai, I honestly didn’t know. Was he treating him right? Did he love him the way I so desperately wanted him to be loved?

I know Nicolai isn’t a cruel man.

But he stole my child. And he disappeared.

I didn’t trust him. Which made it worse.

I started drinking, I even tried drugs, anything to make the pain go away. After a year, Lucy finally forced me to get help. And slowly, very slowly, I got my life back together. I picked myself up, I got clean, I got involved in the café and busied my time with running that, and finally, I decided I was going to find my son. I was going to get the answers I deserved. I was going to bring myself peace.

And here we are.

“I want to go there. Tonight. Now.”

My voices comes out shaky, but I look to Lincoln, holding his eyes.

“Not sure that’s a good idea, Shania.”

“If you won’t come with me, I’ll go on my own. But I’d rather you there. Please. I need to see my son. I need to ... I only had him for one night ...”

My voice cracks, and a tear rolls down my cheek.

Lincoln’s face softens, and he actually looks hurt for me. Like my pain is his own.

“Okay,” he murmurs, his voice thick. “Okay, Slater and I will come with you.”

I stand. “Thank you.”

“I’m coming, too,” Lucy says. “That no-good bitch is going to get a little talking to from me.”

I look to my sister, and I hug her. Because if it wasn’t for her, I’d not be where I am right now. She is the one who pulled me from rock bottom and got me on my feet again. She’s the only one who saw my true pain. Not the mask that hides it now.

“Thank you,” I whisper to her. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”

She pulls back, holding my shoulders. “Of course you would be, because you’re strong.”

“I’m coming too,” Scarlett says. “Hell, if they’re not going to play the game, we’re going to all stand there until they do.”

My heart explodes with happiness and gratitude to these people. The people who didn’t even know me a few months ago but have invested their time and their good natures into helping me find my son. I owe them everything.

“One condition,” Lincoln says, grabbing his truck keys.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“You tell us everything on the way there. Leave nothing out.”

I agree.

And on the way there, I tell them everything.

Everything.

~*~*~*~