The answer might not have come across the stereo speakers, but it resonated in her heart. I am with you always. What a wonderful thought. Lauren could feel her heart begin to respond to this truth. She wasn't alone, driving into the dusk and facing fifteen hours of freeway time before she could get help for Emily. She was driving with God right next to her. God Himself.

She leaned back in the seat and relaxed her grip on the steering wheel. He would see her home safely, and He'd help Emily get better. It was all going to be okay. The peace that felt nothing short of Pine stayed with her for the next twenty-four hours. It was on the last stretch that everything began falling apart again.

Emily cried all the time and nothing made her feel better. She was burning up and with every breath her little chest rose higher than before. Lauren pulled over at a rest stop and slid into the backseat. She leaned up and locked the doors. It was pitch dark, and there was a group of shady-looking people standing near the water fountain. The stop would have to be a short one. She unbuckled Emily from her seat and felt her fear double. Her daughter's body was still burning up. "Are you hungry, little one?"

Emily's wheezing was worse, but it wasn't until she refused to eat that Lauren felt truly terrified.

Come on, God . . . I need you. Make her eat, please . . .

She held her daughter tight, tried to help her nurse, but nothing worked. Emily was too sick. Lauren gave her a small dose of cough syrup and another spoon of pain reliever. But still she cried for most of the last five hours of the drive. By the end of that time she sounded so sick, Lauren could barely focus on the road.

All along she'd been blaming herself for being a bad mother, for having no experience, for thinking she could take a newborn on a road trip across the country. But in those final hours, her anger shifted toward her parents. This wasn't her fault, it was theirs. They intentionally separated her from Shane. If he hadn't gone away, she would never have packed up a car and taken Emily on the road.

The whole situation was her parents' fault. Theirs and the Galanters. The people who were supposed to love her and Shane the most had almost destroyed them. Her very own parents had betrayed her by allowing the Galanters to leave without any forwarding information. The reason was obvious now. Shane's parents and hers never had any intention of staying in touch. They'd been willing to sacrifice their friendship for the sake of keeping up appearances.

Lauren's stomach hurt as the reality sank in.

Appearances. That's what it came down to. Shane could have his life without the responsibility of being a teenage father. And with Shane gone, then just maybe she would give up the baby and she too could carry on into her senior year without a care in the world. If things had gone according to her parents' plan, Emily would be safe in the arms of some adoptive family by now.

Lauren gritted her teeth and shifted her lower jaw from one side of her mouth to the other. Were they right? Should she have given little Emily up for adoption? Was that the answer in all of this? She shuddered at the thought of saying good-bye. It wasn't possible; she loved Emily with everything in her.

No, she would take her home, get the help she needed from her parents, and then she would leave them and never look back. Because they would never accept her for who she was, never accept Emily. Her life and the life of her daughter would always feel like second-best to her parents. And she couldn't have that attitude coloring Emily's life. No, they wouldn't stay. They would get help, get Emily better again, and then they would leave.

And this time they would never, ever come back.

NINE.

Angela was sitting alone in the dark, her head in her hands, when a car pulled into the driveway. Her heart leaped into her throat and she raced for the door in time to see Lauren get out of the car.

"Mother! I need your help!"

Angela wasn't sure what to do first. The reality was just hitting her. There was Lauren standing in the driveway, when only a minute earlier it seemed they might never see her again. But her tone snapped Angela out of her shock. She stepped out onto the walkway, ran to her daughter, and embraced her. When Lauren remained stiff, unresponsive, Angela drew back and took hold of her daughter's forearms. That's when she saw it. Intense anger and fear, all mixed together, burned in her daughter's eyes.

"Lauren . . . " The fear was hers now. She brought her hand to her daughter's face. "What is it?"

"She's sick." Lauren jerked away. She opened the back door and unbuckled Emily from her car seat.

As Lauren lifted the baby, Angela grabbed a sharp breath. The baby was limp, her face red and blotchy. Angela took a step closer. "How long has she been like this?"

Lauren cradled Emily against her chest. "I don't know." Her face was pale and drawn. She looked as if she hadn't slept in days. "We need to get her to the hospital."

The hospital? Angela's head was spinning. It was just after eleven o'clock at night. "Let me go get your father. He's asleep already and he should - "

"No!" Lauren was wide-eyed. She looked crazed, like maybe she was having a nervous breakdown. "I don't want him coming with us." She held Emily out toward Angela. "Take her, tell me how sick she is."

Angela took the baby in her arms and immediately felt the heat. The child was burning up. Worse, her eyes were open but she was indeed unresponsive. "Is she half asleep?"

"No." Lauren was breathing fast, wiping her palms on her shorts and pacing a few steps in either direction. "She's been like this for a few hours. She won't eat."

Angela held her head near the baby's chest. She was having a terrible time trying to breathe. Angela felt the blood drain from her face. Emily wasn't only sick. She was deathly sick. "Okay - " she nodded toward Lauren's car - "let's get her back in her car seat. She needs a doctor. I'll drive."

They made the trip in silence, Lauren in the backseat with Emily. Angela wanted to ask where Lauren had gone and why she hadn't gotten help in one of the cities she'd passed through along the way. But it was too late for any of that. All that mattered now was Emily.

"Sweetie, it's okay," Lauren cooed at her daughter, but Angela could hear the tears in her voice, hear the way her hushed sobs broke her statements into short bursts of words. "Mommy's here, honey."

When they reached the emergency room entrance at the hospital, Angela directed Lauren to take Emily inside. She parked the car and when she ran in to join them a nurse was taking the baby from Lauren and rushing her through a set of double doors.

"Lauren . . . " Angela stopped, not sure what to do.

Lauren looked over her shoulder. "Follow us!"

They gathered in an examination room just inside the double doors. In seconds, a doctor joined them and began undressing the baby. It took him less than a minute to look up from her, his expression grim. "She has pneumonia. We need to start treatment right away. We'll put her on an IV antibiotic and give her immediate breathing treatments."

He rattled off a series of orders to a few attendants and nurses standing by. When everyone was in action - with one nurse putting an IV in Emily's arm, and another preparing a machine with a miniature face mask - the doctor motioned for the two of them to follow him.

In the hallway outside Emily's room, he directed them to a quiet alcove. Then he held his clipboard to his chest and looked first at Angela, then at Lauren. "I have to be honest with you." His expression was deeply troubled. "She should've come in much sooner. I'm afraid her chances aren't good."

Lauren began to fall, slowly at first and then her knees buckled beneath her. Angela hurried to catch her, but she was out cold.

"We need some help!" The doctor snapped his finger and a pair of nurses jumped into action. "Smelling salts; let's hurry."

Angela was on her knees, her daughter's head in her lap. Everything was falling apart, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Emily might not make it? Was that the next terrible thing that would happen? And then what? How would they ever have a restored relationship with Lauren after this? She wanted to pray, but she was out of practice. Besides, they hadn't exactly asked God about what to do when it came to Shane and Lauren. Why ask Him now? He had probably washed His hands of them a long time ago.

The nurses were at Lauren's side now, waving smelling salts beneath her nose. In a few seconds she came to, but she looked deathly white. Her eyes were glazed over, and Angela could only imagine all she'd been through. She must've turned back to Chicago when she realized Emily was so sick. She probably drove straight through, terrified that she wouldn't get back home in time.

Lauren was fully awake now. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. A frantic look came across her face and she stared at the doctor. "Where is she?"

"Your daughter's in the room across the hall, Miss Anderson. We're doing everything we can."

"What was that part you said? Before . . . before I fell?" Lauren didn't look even a little familiar. The fear in her eyes made her look like a crazy person. "Something about my little girl and her chances."

The doctor sighed and helped the nurses get Lauren back to her feet. Then he looked straight into Lauren's eyes. "She's getting everything she needs, but I'm not sure it'll be enough."

"Meaning what?" Lauren's words were fast and hard. "Tell me what that means."

The doctor looked to the nurses and then to Lauren. "Your daughter's very, very sick, Miss Anderson." He pursed his lips and gave a slight shake of his head. "She won't make it without a miracle."

"Lauren . . . " Angela moved to take hold of her daughter's arm, but she pulled away.

"Leave me alone." Her anger lasted only a moment. When she turned back toward the doctor there was no trace of it. "Can I sit in the room with her? I . . . I won't be in the way?"

"Yes." He nodded toward the door. "You can be with her the entire time."

Angela looked at the doctor. "Can I stay too?"

"No!" Lauren held out her hand in as top-sign fashion. Her eyes were ablaze with anger. "I don't want you in there. This is - " She looked at the doctor. "Excuse us, please."

"Certainly." The doctor cast Angela a quick look as if to ask if Lauren was all right. Angela gave him a slight nod. Everything wasn't okay, of course, but the two of them could work through it. "I'll be coming in often to check on her and give you updates." He hesitated. "I'm sorry."

When he was gone, Lauren's eyes blazed. "I don't want you in the room with us." Her words were a hiss, and Angela took a step back. She'd never seen Lauren act like this, never.

"Honey, I think I should stay."

"Mother, listen to me." The confusion and craziness seemed to fade, and she looked more lucid than she had since she'd pulled in the driveway. She pointed at the door of Emily's room. "My baby's dying in there because you lied to me, you lied to me and you pushed me and Shane apart, and you left me no choice but to go after him." Her voice was a study in controlled fury. "So I'm going in there to sit with her, and I don't want you anywhere near me. Or her. Understand?"

A shiver passed down Angela's spine. "I'm sorry, Lauren. I never meant for this to - "

Lauren wasn't listening. She opened the door, stepped inside the room, and shut it behind her. Only then did Angela turn and walk back to the waiting room. She would stay until Lauren was willing to talk to her again. As she sat there, she was too stunned to cry, too shocked to do anything but go over what had just happened. She'd wondered what the repercussions might be if they separated the kids, if it all didn't go the way they'd planned. She'd doubted Lauren and Shane would be okay, as the others asserted. Agonized over what would happen if they all were wrong.

Well, now Angela knew.

And the worst was yet to come.

Lauren didn't move from her chair for the next six hours. She slid it up against Emily's little bed and watched as one person or another came in to work on her. She watched them monitor Emily and place a plastic mask over her face to help her breathe, and she watched the medicine drip into her daughter's veins.

The whole time she begged God for one thing: that He might find it in His heart to let Emily live.

Through two o'clock and three in the morning, things still seemed horribly grim. The doctor checked on her and shook his head. "I'm not sure she'll make it, Miss Anderson. Babies this sick usually don't go home."

In between his visits, she looked at Emily, afraid to touch her. Once in a while she'd put her fingers against her daughter's forehead and run them down her tiny arm. "I'm sorry, Emily. Mommy's sorry."

Most of the night her eyes were dry. She was too scared to cry, too worried that she might lose a minute of praying and willing life back into her little girl.

Then, at four o'clock, the doctor came in with the best news of the night, the best news of the past two days. "Her white count is better. It looks like she's responding to the antibiotics."

"Really?" Lauren didn't usually say much when the doctor came in. She was too afraid of the answers. But this time she felt a surge of hope so great she couldn't keep quiet. "You mean she might pull out of it?"

"I can't say." He studied Emily, placing his stethoscope to her chest and listening. When he straightened, he looked at Lauren. "I hear an improvement. I'm amazed, really. If things continue in this direction, she might get better quickly. Once babies make a turn for the better they can be eating in twelve hours." He paused and lowered his brow. "But don't get too excited, Miss Anderson. Your baby is still very sick."

When the doctor left, Lauren felt an absolute certainty. Emily was going to pull through! God had heard her cry and He'd reached down from heaven and given them a miracle. She thought about what the doctor said. Emily could be awake and wanting food in twelve hours. If that were true, she'd need to be rested enough to take care of her. Especially because she didn't want to spend any more time than necessary in Chicago.

She considered her options. What she really needed was sleep. She could take the car and go home, get eight hours of sleep, and then come back. If she stayed at the hospital it wouldn't help Emily, and if she didn't get sleep she'd be no use at all to her daughter. But first she needed to talk to her mother. Lauren wasn't any less angry, but she needed to tell her that Emily was doing better. She deserved to know at least that much.

Emily's breathing sounded better, much better. Lauren hesitated. She hated leaving, hated being apart from her daughter for even a few hours. But she had no choice, not if she was going to be well enough to care for Emily when she woke up. Lauren stood and leaned overhear baby. "Keep fighting, Emily." She kissed her daughter's feathery soft cheek. "I love you, sweetheart. I'll be here in the morning."

With one last look at Emily, she left the room and went to the waiting area. Her mother was awake, sitting in a chair at the far end of the room. Their eyes met, and Lauren moved toward her, refusing further eye contact until the last moment.

"Emily's doing better. The doctor says he can't believe it." She sat down in a chair opposite her mother. "I want to be strong for her when she wakes up. I thought I'd go home and get some sleep."

Her mother nodded. "I'll stay here."

Lauren hadn't considered that. She figured her mother would go home, since she might need sleep too. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm fine. I'll go in and sit with her while you're gone."

For a moment Lauren considered telling her mother she was sorry about the scene earlier. But things between them were still a twisted ball of knots. It would take months to unravel all the hurt and resentment. For now she stood and her mother did the same. And even though it went against everything she felt, Lauren hugged her.

It was a short hug, but it was a start.

She drove home, slipped in through the front door, and crawled up the stairs. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow. By the time she woke up, it was two in the afternoon, and the house was silent. She sat straight up and looked at the crib.

Where was Emily?

It took her a few minutes to remember that she'd come home not quite halfway to Los Angeles, and that Emily was sick. And then it all rushed back.

She jumped from the bed. She needed to know how Emily was more than she needed her next breath. She called information and got the number for the hospital, and a minute later she was talking to a nurse.

"Hi." Lauren swallowed. The fear from the night before was back. "My little girl is a patient there. I need to check on her."

"What's her name?" The woman seemed kind, not rushed the way nurses sometimes seemed.

"Emily Anderson."

"Okay, let me check. I'll be right back."

Please, God . . . please.

The seconds passed like hours, and finally the woman came back. "I'm sorry, you're the baby's mother?"

Lauren's heart tripped over itself. "Yes, I need to know . . . how is she?"

"Well . . . I don't know how to tell you this, but she's gone. Just a few hours ago. I'm sorry someone didn't call you and - "

The woman's words grew too dim to hear. Gone? Emily, her baby girl, was gone? Lauren dropped her head in her hand, and the phone slid down her cheek. She could hear the woman speaking, but it didn't matter, it didn't make a bit of difference. Her baby was gone. Just a few hours ago . . . a few hours ago.

God . . . God where were You?

She was the worst mother ever.

Her feet and hands and heart felt numb, and she eased off the bed to her knees. I begged you, God. You let us down. My baby is dead and I wasn't even there to hold her or tell her it would be okay. You knew . . . You had to know it was going to happen and You didn't make me stay there . . .

She gripped the edge of the bed and strained for a single breath, but it wouldn't come. The room was spinning, tilting hard to one side. In the distance a tinny voice was saying, "If you'd like to make a call, please hang up and try again . . . If you'd like to make a call . . . "

God, why? Why didn't You let her live? She was everything I had, all that mattered. Her tears came then, delayed only by the shock racking her being. Waves of tears shook her, tearing at her soul. Emily was gone, and Shane never even had a chance to meet her. Is that fair to him, Lord? He wanted to be a father and now he'll never even know her! She squeezed her eyes shut and remembered a few months back, when she was pregnant and sitting beside Shane in his car. He'd put his hand on her belly and felt Emily kick. The wonder and awe on his face . . .

He would've made the most wonderful father, but now . . .

Now he would never have the chance.

Everyone had failed her. Her parents and Shane's parents. And now even God. "Will the punishment never end?" She whispered the words, but as she did the anger came back fast and furious and her voice rose. "Will it never end?" She pounded the bed and opened her eyes, staring out the window. "How could You let her die, God? Why did You take her from me? She never . . . never even got to live."