Lauren was scared and angry and worn out. She could barely breathe as one wave of pain after another rocked her. She tried to concentrate on the doctor's words. What had he said? Within the hour? How was that possible? Her due date wasn't for two weeks, and until she figured out about her parents' lie, she'd felt fine. Now she was breathless, the pain radiating up through her chest and around to her back. She couldn't begin to sort through her emotions. Shane was completely out of touch, and she would be a mother in an hour. All that, and the fact that her parents weren't on her side.

Her mother touched her elbow. "I'll stay here, honey. Your father's on his way."

Lauren moaned. She wanted to tell her mother to leave. If she really cared she'd help her find a way to reach Shane. But the next contraction was already on her, and she couldn't talk. A memory flashed through her mind. She and her mother at a baby shower for a neighbor. Lauren had been maybe thirteen years old.

"What if I don't know how to have a baby, I mean when it's my turn?" She'd turned to her mother, genuinely anxious about the idea.

Her mother had squeezed her hand. "I'll be there for you, Lauren. I'll tell you what to expect, and I'll help you through it. You'll be just fine."

That's how their relationship was before she got pregnant. Now, here she was, going through the very thing that had frightened her. Yes, her mother was with her, but not really. Their relationship was strained and tense, as if the woman beside her wasn't her mom at all, but someone who only looked like her.

"Are you okay?" Her mother pulled a chair up next to her. She crossed her legs and leaned closer, concern written in the lines of her forehead. "Do you need anything?"

"Yes." Lauren was between contractions. She ran her tongue over her lip and locked eyes with her mother. "Shane."

Her mother didn't ask again.

The doctor's prediction proved to be right on. Exactly fifty minutes after arriving at the hospital, with only a mild amount of medication for the pain, Lauren gave birth to a six-pound, three-ounce baby girl. The moment the doctor held the baby up, tears flooded Lauren's eyes. This was her daughter, her child. A part of her and of Shane. She covered her mouth and shook her head, amazed. "She's . . . she's perfect."

The doctor smiled, and in the next chair, her mother was crying too. For some reason Lauren was bothered by her mother's tears. Was she crying because this wasn't how things were supposed to go, or because she was too young to be a grandmother? It was an instant that would never come again - the birth of her first child. It was a time when her mother's emotion should've been joy, not pain.

For Lauren, of course, the tears were joyous, but they were also filled with sorrow. This was her daughter, a fair-skinned beauty who would forever be a part of her, a part of her life. But Shane should've been here, beside her, seeing their daughter for the first time. How long would it be before he knew about her, before his parents would let him fly back to Chicago to see their little girl?

That night, her parents took turns holding the baby and spouting the types of things first-time grandparents were supposed to say. "She has Lauren's chin . . . she's perfect." Or, "Look at those blue eyes!" Her mother was no longer crying. Instead, by the time they were ready to head home, her parents were upbeat, promising to return in the morning.

No one said a word about adoption.

When they left, Lauren held her daughter close against her chest. As terrible as it was that her parents had been trying to keep her from Shane, at least they weren't going to force her to give her daughter up. She studied her little girl's face. "Hi, sweetie. Mommy's here."

The baby squirmed a little, her eyes never veering from Lauren's. "You need me, don't you, little one?"

The precious child in her arms trusted her with her entire being. Lauren had no idea what she was doing, no clue where they would go or how they would find Shane again. But they would find him. They would go to him as soon as they could. She owed Shane that much.

By the end of that first night, she'd given the baby a name: Emily.

Now she would press her parents to do everything in their power to help her find Shane. Then they could figure something out so that they could be a family sooner than later. Little Emily needed her daddy too. In the glow and marvel of those early hours of being a mother, Lauren would've walked barefoot to California with Emily in her arms if it meant finding Shane. If her parents weren't going to help, she would find him on her own. She stared at her ring and brought it to her face, brushing it against her cheek.

Whatever it took for the three of them to be together. The way they should've been now.

The way they would be forever.

SEVEN.

Lauren was determined: she was going to find Shane.

Every day that passed, her resolve grew stronger. She would find him, and she would do it soon. The baby was four weeks old by the time she felt strong enough to take the subject to her parents. It was after eight o'clock on a Monday night the first week of August. Lauren had rocked Emily to sleep and tucked her into her crib. Now she padded down the carpeted hallway toward her parents' den. They often spent time there after dinner. The room had a full-size patio door that led to a covered porch. It was one of the nicest spots in the house.

She was almost to the door when she heard her father's voice. He sounded stern, frustrated. Lauren stopped and listened.

"I don't want his contact information, don't you see that, Angela?" He uttered a harsh chuckle. "In fact, this is just how I want it. Our daughter doesn't need any ties to that family, that woman."

"It's both of them." Her mother's voice was tired, the way she often sounded since the move. "Sheila doesn't want her son dragged down by Lauren, but Samuel's right there with her. Believe me, the idea of tearing these kids apart comes from both of them."

"Okay, fine. Exactly." His tone was louder than before. "So why should I take calls from the kid? So he called the bank, so what?"

"Bill." Her mother's voice was slower, more calm. "Listen to yourself. This is Shane we're talking about, honey. He was practically part of the family for all those years, remember?" She sighed loud enough that Lauren could hear it in the hallway. "I mean the kid calls the bank looking for you, looking for some way to reach Lauren, and you have your secretary tell him he's got the wrong bank? Is that fair?"

Lauren's knees felt week. She felt the room begin to spin, and she braced herself against the wall. Shane had called the bank, her father's new bank? And he'd been told he had the wrong place? So what would he think next? Did he even know what Chicago suburb they'd settled in or what neighborhood? She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to listen.

"Of course it's fair, Angela. The things Sheila and Samuel said about our daughter, the way they treated her . . . Lauren's my child, Angela. I don't want her around people who don't like her. If she's away from Shane, she'll be away from his parents."

Her mother was quiet for a moment, and Lauren wondered if she was crying. Finally she said, "How did it all turn so bad? They were our friends. Our best friends."

"I've learned something." Her father sounded matter-of-fact. "Playing cards together, vacationing together, doesn't always mean you know people." His voice grew wistful. "I thought I knew Sheila and Sam. But you watched how they handled this. The only thing that mattered was Shane. They would've burned down our house if it meant protecting their boy from his responsibility."

There was silence for a moment. Lauren's entire body shook and she felt sick to her stomach. This was the sign she'd been looking for, the proof that her parents really and truly had conspired against her and Shane. Now she would leave this house, walk out of their lives without looking back, and one day, when she and Shane were settled, she would consider being a part of this family again. But not until then. She was about to burst into the room, but she waited in case there was more.

There was.

After another few seconds, her mother said, "So what did he say? I mean, did he leave a message?"

"He told my secretary his name was Shane Galanter, and he was looking for Bill Anderson." A long sigh came from her father. "I'd already told her that if anyone named Galanter called, she was to say they had the wrong bank. No one there by my name."

Her mother groaned. "The kids miss each other, Bill. What if we're wrong?"

"We're protecting Lauren." Her father was curt, adamant. "It's for her own good, because I love her. Besides, she'll never find out."

"Yes, I will." Lauren stepped into the room, still holding onto the door frame to keep her balance. Her head pounded, and she could barely feel her feet. She stared from her mother to her father, her eyes wide, unblinking. "I heard it all, Daddy. Shane called you at work and you had some . . . some woman tell him he had the wrong bank." She wanted to scream at him, shout at both of them that they couldn't do this. But it was already done. All that was left inside her was an eerie sort of iciness, an anxiety that defied expression.

"Lauren - " Her father was on his feet. His mouth hung open for a few seconds. But he rebounded quickly. "The two of you need time away from each other. The Galanters and we agreed. It's important, so the two of you can figure out what you want from here."

"We already know what we want." She was imploding, her voice fading with every few words. "You and Mom don't have any idea what I want." She pressed her hand to her chest. "What Shane and I want. We need to be together."

"Okay." Her father looked across the room.

As if on cue, her mother turned to Lauren. "We'll help you find him, honey. It won't be hard. Your father has ways." She paused. "It's like your dad said. We all felt it would be best if we gave the two of you some time apart. If you could've heard the things Mrs. Galanter said about you, honey . . . "

"I don't care about her. I care about Shane." Her voice was getting louder, and she brought it back down again. "All you've done is tear us apart."

"We were trying to help you."

"The phone connection thing, the made-up forwarding information, and now this - Shane calls the bank and gets a lie." She laughed, but it came out low and sad. "Thanks for the help, Mom." She looked at her father. "You too, Dad." She turned to walk out, but her mother was on her feet, crossing the room and coming toward her.

"Where are you going?"

Lauren was done sharing information with her parents. "My room." She looked at her mother over her shoulder. "I have nothing left to say."

Her parents must've felt the same way, because they didn't speak another word as she walked away. Not until she was in the hallway did she hear her mother's voice. "I'm sorry, Lauren. We . . . we never meant to hurt you."

She stopped and closed her eyes for a few seconds, holding back the sudden rush of tears that stung at her eyes. "I know." She blinked and looked back at them one last time. "I know."

As she made her way through the house and up the stairs to her room, she was certain her mother was telling the truth. In some strange, twisted way the things she and her father had done to keep her and Shane apart really were acted out with the thought that it would be best for her.

But some part of their consciences must've known it was wrong. She sat on the edge of her bed and looked across the room at Emily's crib. The baby stirred and gave a small sneeze.

Lauren stood and went to her. "Hey, little one, you okay? Mommy's here." She leaned out and touched her forehead. It was warm, but that might've been from the blankets or the sticky summer night. Lauren frowned and adjusted the layers so the baby had less over her body.

The most amazing thing about being a new mother was the intensity of the love she felt for her daughter. She would've done anything for little Emily, and come tomorrow she would prove it. She soothed her hand over Emily's forehead again. She wasn't that warm, after all. "Everything's going to be okay."

She should've been furious with her parents, devastated by their betrayal, fighting mad about everything that had happened to Shane and her. Instead, as she stared at her daughter, she felt a surging sense of freedom. She and Emily would be fine on their own.

She leaned over the crib and kissed her daughter on the cheek. Then she went to the top drawer in her nightstand and pulled out the envelope just inside. It held five thousand dollars, money she'd taken from her personal account that afternoon. Since her money was still at the bank in the city, she'd found a local branch first. Her mother thought she was running to the grocery store with Emily, but she stopped at the bank on her way home. It was her money, gifts she'd gotten over the years, money she'd earned babysitting. Some of it was from her parents, but only when it was given as a birthday or Christmas present or for getting A's on her report card.

Now it felt like a million dollars in her hands. With that kind of cash she could take Emily to Los Angeles, find someplace to live, and start searching for Shane. She would try the local banks, places where his father might work. Then once school started again, she would try every high school in Los Angeles if she had to. Her parents would get over her decision. She'd done the unforgivable. By getting pregnant she and Shane had cast a shadow of shame on their families too long and dark and wide to ever step out of. The only way she'd live in the light of happiness and freedom again was by finding Shane.

As she fell asleep, she heard Emily sneeze twice more. Nothing to worry about. Just a small case of the sniffles, probably something all little babies dealt with in the first few months of life. And if she came down with a real full-blown cold, they could stop at any supermarket along the way to California and find something to help her.

The next morning Lauren's father left early, without saying good-bye. Her mother checked in and reported that she was spending the day with the interior decorator.

"We're accessorizing today. Looking at a few of the local boutiques." Her mother gave her a tentative smile. "You're not still upset about your father's situation at the bank, are you?" She paused, the corners of her lips locked in an upward lift. "You and Shane will connect one of these days real soon. We'll help you."

"How, Mom?" She had Emily cradled in her arms. Her suitcases were packed and in the closet. "I don't have his phone number, and he doesn't have mine." She narrowed her eyes. "Where exactly does he live? Do you know that?"

Her mother's shoulders lowered a little. "Los Angeles. That's all they told me."

"Okay, what about his dad's business? He had investments in LA, so what are they? Where are they?"

"Gas stations, I think. And a small airport, maybe." She bit her lip. "At least I think so."

"You see?" She made a sound that was part laugh, part moan. "Why say we'll connect soon? Shane found Daddy's bank, which is pretty good with nothing to go on, don't you think?"

Her eyes fell to the floor, but she nodded. "Yes. Yes, it was."

"So he found it, and then someone tells him it's not the right bank. No one there by the name of Bill Anderson." She kept her voice calm so it wouldn't wake Emily. "What makes you think I'll be able to find Shane now?"

A pair of robins sang from a tree outside her window. Her mother looked up and gave the slightest shrug. "I've been asking myself the same thing all night." She hugged her arms tight around her waist. "Honestly, Lauren, I don't know. I have to believe he'll find you, but I don't know how."

"Maybe if our phone number was listed." She hated the sarcasm in her voice. It made her feel ugly and jaded, like a world of distance lay between her and her mom.

"Lauren - " her mother sighed - "you know we can't list our number, not with your dad's involvement at the bank. We've never been listed, and neither have the Galanters."

It was all she needed to hear. She had to go to Shane. Whether he was in California or on the moon, she had to find him. She held Emily closer. "I love you, Mother, and I always will." Her voice cracked. "But I can't believe what you and Daddy have done to me."

Her mom came to her then and placed her arms around Lauren and Emily, holding them tight. When she drew back, she looked deep into her eyes, "I love you too, honey. I'm sorry. Really."

She turned and walked away. When Lauren heard the front door close behind her, she stood and set Emily down in her crib. With her heart in her throat, she added a few more items to each suitcase. All of Emily's clothes, and more than enough for herself.

As she left the room, a suitcase in each hand, she stopped and looked back. She scanned the room, taking in her box of short stories and photo albums, her yearbooks and souvenirs from a childhood that ended far too quickly. She could always come back for those things once she found Shane.

The only memento she packed was a framed photograph of her and Shane, something she would set next to her bed so that wherever the next place was she called home, she would be driven every day to find him.

Only then would she send for the rest of her things.

She packed the car with the suitcases, then came back for Emily. She left a note in Emily's crib that said simply, "Gone to meet Shane. I'll call when I find him. Love, Lauren."

By four that afternoon they were three hundred miles out of Wheaton. Everything ahead of her looked bright and promising. The sky was clear, the map on the seat beside her had the route marked out perfectly. A woman at the local auto club had helped her with the best possible freeways and stopping points. She would get to California in six days and after that she'd find Shane and they could be together. Only one thing caused her even an inkling of doubt.

In the backseat, Emily was still sneezing.

EIGHT.

Something tragic had happened.

By six o'clock that night, Angela Anderson was sure of it. She called Bill at the bank and struggled to keep the panic from her voice. "Have you seen Lauren?"

"Lauren?" His tone told her he was busy. "Of course not. She's home with the baby. You know that."

"She's not here, Bill. I think she's gone."

"If she's not there, then of course she's gone." His impatience grated on her. "Honey, I'm in a meeting. She's probably at the store, and she'll be back in a few minutes."

"What if . . . what if she's gone?"

"Gone where?"

"Gone gone. I think she left, maybe to find Shane." Angela's voice was controlled, but only barely. "She didn't leave a note, not one that I could find. I looked in her room, every where."

He uttered an exaggerated sigh. "She's out shopping."

"I thought of that, but Bill, I've been home for an hour. She wouldn't be gone this long." She hesitated. "I have a bad feeling."

"All right, well listen." There was kindness in his voice now. "Why don't you check her room again and see what you can find. This is Lauren we're talking about, honey. She wouldn't do anything crazy."