She sobbed out her anger, her grief, letting her forehead fall against the bed. "Emily . . . baby girl . . . " The fight left her, and all she could do was picture her precious daughter, the way she'd looked in the hospital bed. The doctor said she was doing better, right? So what went wrong? The tears came harder now, and Lauren wondered if they'd fill the room and drown her. "Emily . . . baby, Mommy's sorry." Her words were muffled, spoken into a bunched up section of blankets. "I should've stayed with you, sweetheart." She gasped for whatever air she could get. "Emily . . . I love you, baby. I'm sorry."

It took time, but finally her tears slowed. As they did she was left with an emptiness that knew no bounds, a hollow place that was chilling cold and pitch dark. She could still hear chatter coming from the phone, but she blocked it out. There was only one person she wanted now, one who could hold her and make sense of the nightmare that her life had become.

Shane Galanter.

She wanted him now more than ever before. Lauren stood, slowly and carefully, because the room was still spinning. After a minute she found her balance, drew a slow breath, and walked out of her room. No need to stop and look around, to think of the memories she was leaving behind. Memories of her little girl would live forever in her heart, a single bright light in a place that would be dark until she found Shane.

Emily was gone, and with her every hope for the life the two of them could've lived with Shane. But Shane was still out there. Somewhere. As she drove out of the suburbs toward the freeway, she passed the hospital and thought about going inside. She could at least hold her baby one more time. Certainly her body would still be there. Or maybe not. Maybe they'd already taken her to the morgue. Yes, that would be it. There was no way she could go into the hospital now.

She had a handful of photographs and a month full of memories of Emily Sue Anderson. She was too late even to see her daughter's lifeless body, and beyond that, to see her mother. Not when all of this - every bit of it - could've been prevented if only their parents hadn't separated them.

She and Shane should've been together, at home with Emily in their arms. Gripped with emotion, Lauren pulled off the road and stared at the hospital. She wouldn't forget her last day with Emily. Watching her breathe, and believing with everything in her that God was going to give them a miracle.

Her lips pressed tight together.

But You didn't do that, did You? You summed up my abilities as a mother, and You chose to take Emily home with You. I'll never forgive You for that, God. Not ever.

She cradled her empty arms against her chest and imagined the feel of Emily against her, warm and alive and fully dependent on her. "I let you down, baby . . . Mommy's sorry." The tears in her heart became sobs, and Lauren let her head fall against the steering wheel. "Emily . . . if I could hold you one more time." But she couldn't, because everyone had worked against her and Shane. Even God. What good was it that Emily was in heaven? Didn't You have enough babies up there? Did you have to take mine? As angry and scared and empty as she felt, even that one truth - that Emily was in a better place - meant nothing to her.

Not when all she wanted was one more chance to hold her daughter.

She blinked until she could see. Then she pulled the car onto the road and headed toward the first freeway onramp. She was finished with Chicago, with her parents, with their God . . . with every piece of her past. She would find Shane. They'd make a way to be together. Then later, when they were married and more stable, they could return to Chicago and talk to her parents. They could see about mending ties. Nothing would ever be the same again, but she could always go back home. Always pick up her things.

But she could never have her little Emily again.

Grief filled every breath as she pulled out of town and headed for her new life in Los Angeles. The drive would take six full days, and on the third day she sold her sports car to a dealer in Texas. She used that money to pay cash for another car, a sensible four-door sedan with low mileage.

Not only was the new car more economical, but her parents couldn't trace her license plate. They wouldn't expect her to have a new car, and by the time she registered it in California, she'd think of someway to keep her parents from knowing about it.

By her fifth day on the road, she began to worry about money. She had forty-five hundred dollars left, but it was going fast. Before she could look for Shane she had to have a plan, a place to live, a job.

She settled in a town called Northridge, and on her second day there she drove to the California State University, located in the center of the town. On a bulletin board she found three sets of girls looking for a roommate. One sounded more serious than the others, and the rent was only a couple hundred dollars a month. Perfect for her budget.

She made the call, and by that afternoon she had a place to stay and roommates who seemed nice enough. One of them asked about her age, but she brushed off the comment.

"I look young. Everyone always says so." She smiled, though it felt foreign on her lips. A smile hadn't touched her face since she left Chicago, since she drove away from the place where her daughter had died. But she wouldn't share any of that, not with strangers. Not with anyone except Shane.

One of them, a petite Chinese-American girl, raised a curious eyebrow. "Are you a student at Cal State Northridge?"

"Not yet." Lauren swung her purse over her shoulder. "I need to earn money this semester."

"What was your name again?" A tall, thin brunette leaned against the wall. Her eyes sparkled, and Lauren guessed that a lifetime ago if she'd met the girl, the two might've become friends.

"Lauren."

"Got a last name?"

The cool facade cracked down the middle, but just for a minute. She smoothed her hand over her button-down blouse and grinned. "Sorry. Lauren Gibbs."

"Lauren Gibbs?" The Chinese-American girl made a curious face. "I've seen that some where before."

Lauren shrugged. "It's a common name." She kept her breathing even, unwilling to give herself away. "What about you?"

Their names were Kathy, Song, and Debbie. They talked about the campus and classes, and then they all fell silent. Kathy, the girl who seemed most in charge, held out her hand. "Welcome. The first rent is due when you move your stuff in."

"Would now work?" Lauren took out her wallet and pulled out two hundred dollars.

They all laughed, and Lauren went back out to the car for her things. She ached inside. So this was her life now. Lies and making do and pretending she was someone she wasn't. The pain she carried buried deep within her. She blinked tears away.

So be it.

All that mattered was surviving long enough to find Shane.

Her room was small and she shared it with Song. It took thirty minutes to unpack and get her area set up. She placed the photo of Shane and her on the windowsill. The pictures of Emily she would keep in the drawer. She'd buy a photo album, so she could look at them often.

The next day she found a job waiting table sat Marie Callender's, a restaurant across the street from her apartment. On the application, she wrote Lauren Gibbs, and all her contact information came from the new life she'd started the day before.

By then, she had a plan. When she got her first paycheck, she'd get identification and a driver's license with her new name. It was possible. Especially since she didn't have a Social Security card yet. One of the girls at the restaurant had given her some information, a way to start the process. Once she had her new identity firmly in place, she'd register her car and get on with life.

There was a community college not far from Northridge. She would contact the school and take her GED. Then she'd enroll in classes on that campus for the first two years. After that she'd transfer to Cal State Northridge and earn a degree in journalism. Life would be the way it should have been. At least on the surface.

That afternoon Lauren went back to the apartment and found the single phone on a desk in the living room. She grabbed a pad of paper from the counter and a pen from the drawer. August was too soon for school to be in progress, but by now Shane would be enrolled somewhere. Office staff started earlier than teachers, didn't they? She tapped the pad of paper with her pen. A phone book sat not far away, and she reached for it. A section in the front had the names and numbers of all the local high schools. She started at the beginning Canoga Park High School.

She picked up the phone and dialed the number.

"Canoga Park High School."

"Yes, hello." She did her best to sound old. After all she'd been through it wasn't a stretch. "I need to verify that our son's enrolled for the coming semester."

"Very well. Is he a new student?"

It was working! Lauren swallowed hard. "Yes. We just moved here from Chicago."

"Okay, let me get the list of incoming students." She hesitated. "What was the name?"

She closed her eyes and pictured him, his dark hair and damp eyes, the way he'd looked that last day when he told her good-bye. The woman was waiting. "Shane Galanter."

"Shane Galanter." The woman repeated his name slowly, and the rustling of papers sounded in the background. "Nope. He's not registered yet. Would you like me to start the paperwork?"

Lauren opened her eyes and wrote a tiny NO next to the name Canoga Park. "That's okay." She uttered a polite laugh. "I'll talk with my husband. We'll come in later this week. Thank you."

Next on the list was Taft High School.

By three o'clock she'd tried every school in the San Fernando Valley. Shane wasn't enrolled at any of them. But that was okay. She had a room and a job and a plan for the future. And she had a new identity. Lauren Anderson was no more. Her death date was the same as her daughter's. She died the moment the nurse told her that Emily was gone. From that moment on, Lauren had no family, no daughter, no desire to do anything but move on and fulfill her single goal in life: to find Shane. She would look as often as she had a chance, every day, every hour.

Even if it took the rest of her life.

TEN.

Shane couldn't think of anything but Lauren.

They'd been tricked, that much was obvious. The whole phone number thing didn't make sense unless it was intentional. At least on the part of Lauren's parents. He'd brought it up to his parents a handful of times, and they always seemed surprised. His mother looked confused the first time he told her about the recording on Lauren's old phone number. "We thought they were leaving a forwarding number. Angela told me they were leaving it on the recording."

"So why didn't they?" Shane was ready to get in his car and go back to Chicago. Except the car wasn't his, and his parents wouldn't let him take it farther than the mall. He fought his frustration as he looked at his mother, trying to figure out the situation. "What do you think happened?"

"Truthfully?" Pained sorrow filled his mother's face. "I think maybe they wanted to be rid of us . . . rid of you, Shane."

"Why?" He was on his feet. "They know how much Lauren and I want to be together. I can't call her without a phone number." He thought for a minute. "Do they know ours?"

His mother frowned. "I don't see how they could. We're in a new development, and getting our phone service in took a while. You know that." She took hold of his hand. "It feels like they wanted to cut ties, son. I'm sorry."

Time wore on and he watched the calendar. When it came time for Lauren's due date, he waited until he had the house to himself, which happened every afternoon. His father was always at his new mortgage office, and his mother spent her afternoons there helping set it up. So every afternoon Shane worked through a list of hospitals within a hundred-mile radius around the city of Chicago.

"My girl friend's having a baby," he told the receptionist at the first hospital on his list. "I need to know if you've admitted her."

"Sir, I'm afraid we can't give patient information out to anyone except next of kin."

He felt the frustration build. "You mean if I were her husband you'd tell me if she was there?"

"Exactly."

He didn't have to be told twice. He called the next hospital on his list. "My wife's having a baby. I need to know if you've admitted her."

"Her name?"

He felt a surge of hope. "Lauren Anderson."

The sound of typing filled the phone line. "No, sir. No one here by that name."

Then he'd go to the next hospital on the list. When he was finished, he'd hide the list where his parents wouldn't find it. Not that they'd stop him from trying to find her. But they weren't happy about the pregnancy, and he had the sense it would be better to keep his phone calling to himself.

Each day, after his parents were gone, he'd pull the list from his hiding spot under his bed and start again at the beginning. Lauren's due date was mid-July, and he made the phone calls until the end of the month. Then he began to panic. What if something had happened to the baby, or what if Lauren left the area or decided to give the baby up?

There were nights he couldn't sleep because his mind wouldn't stop thinking of ways to find her. She was in the Chicago suburbs somewhere. He tried calling directory assistance, but none of the Bill Andersons listed outside the city were the right one. That's when he hit on the idea of calling the banks. There were dozens in the suburbs around Chicago, but he had plenty of time.

He made another list and started at the beginning.

"Hi, a friend of mine recently bought a bank in your area. I'm trying to find him. Could you tell me if Bill Anderson is the new owner there?"

"Bill Anderson?"

"Yes. It was only a few months ago."

"No, we've had the same owner for ten years."

The answers were mostly the same. Only a few times did people give him a little bit of possibility. Once he called a bank outside Wheaton and started the conversation the same way: "A friend of mine bought a bank in your area. Could you tell me if Bill Anderson bought your bank recently?"

"Yes. Could I get your name please?"

Yes? Shane was so excited he stood up and paced across the empty kitchen. "My name's Shane. Shane Galanter."

"Just a minute please." The woman put him on hold and after a short time she came back. "I'm sorry, that's not the name of our owner."

"But you told me yes, you just said that, remember?" Shane pushed his fingers through his hair and rested his forearms on his knees. "Please, check again."

"Sir, I'm very busy. I don't keep track of the bank owners. Can I help you in any other way? Would you like to open an account?"

Shane slammed the phone in the cradle. He tried that bank three more times, but he never again had the strange response he'd gotten that first time.

At the end of another week the bank list turned up nothing, and that made Shane wonder. Maybe Lauren's father had chosen a different investment, the way his father had. A mortgage company or an insurance office, something new. The possibilities were endless, and that meant another dead end.

He tried the few friends Lauren still had, but none of them had her new contact information. Besides, most of them had faded away by the time summer came. Teenage girls didn't spend time with one of their own who was seven months pregnant.

More time passed, and now it was late August and school was starting in a week. Shane was going crazy trying to find her. She would have the baby now, and that meant she'd made her decision. Either she was learning how to be a mother with their baby at her side, or she had given the baby up.

One night that week he was quiet at dinner, and his father asked him about it. "You okay, Shane?"

"I can't stop thinking about her."

His father took a bite of his chicken. "Who?"

"Who?" He looked from his father to his mother. "Are you serious?"

"Honey, he's talking about Lauren, of course." His mother passed a bowl of mashed potatoes across the table. She looked his way. "Have you tried her old number again? Maybe they've left a forwarding number by now."

"I try it every day." He raked his fork through his green beans and pushed his chair back from the table. "I can't find her. I hate this."

"I'll tell you what, son. You get through this next year of school, and if she hasn't turned up by then, we'll go looking for her."

By the end of the year? Shane stared at him. Did he really think that was a possibility? That the two of them wouldn't find each other for a whole year? What about the baby? He was a father; he certainly had the right to spend time with his child, to meet him or her.

That night he turned in early. Baseball was done for the summer, and he still had a few days before school started. He opened his closet and pulled out a box he kept near the back. Then he shut his bedroom door, carried the box to his bed, and gently lifted the first thing from the top. It was a framed photo that Lauren had given him at the end of their fifth-grade year. The two of them had just finished a track meet, and they had their arms locked around each others' necks. In the background, he could see her parents, talking to some of the other adults. His mother had taken the picture. He could hear her voice still.

"You two are darling together."

"Mom, come on." He hadn't been into girls back then. Lauren was his friend. "Take the picture."

When she finally snapped it, Lauren grabbed her water bottle and sprayed him. The move took him by surprise. He grabbed his and chased her, but she was fast and she had a head start. They ran, and as he caught up to her he tore the lid from his bottle. He doused her before she could get away, and they both wound up lying on the grass, side by side, soaking wet and laughing hard.

He looked at the picture now. It was faded, and their faces looked so young. Like that moment had happened to a different couple of kids altogether. He reached back into the box and the next thing he brought out was a handmade card, something Lauren had made him for his thirteenth birthday.