A young man, feeling totally unwanted by his family, runs away. He needs to find a way to survive, and eventually, he stumbles into an Op Rescue clinic.
Paige is taking steps to overcome her past, but not everything is working out as planned. Meanwhile, her pregnancy is progessing well, and she has a new friend in her mentor, someone very familiar with what she's doing.

Operation Rescue: In Plain Sight - Prologue
Operation Rescue: In Plain Sight - Chapter 1
Operation Rescue: In Plain Sight - Chapter 2
Operation Rescue: In Plain Sight - Chapter 3

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This story is copyright by the author. It is protected by licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Paige felt edgy as she and Beth navigated their way through the mall. After several sessions with Rachel, Paige had announced that she wanted to get a few more 'nice' outfits, and could Beth please pick them up for her? Beth's response was that Paige would have to do her own shopping, but that Beth would be more than happy to go with her. Thus, late one Tuesday morning when Beth wasn't working, when the number of shoppers at the mall would be minimal, Beth and Paige began their task — updating Paige's wardrobe to be a little cuter and sexier. Paige was leery, but Beth and Rachel were pushing her to dress in a more daring and fashionable way. Beth reminded her that she didn't want to fade into the woodwork, which was reinforcement of the discussions Paige and Rachel had.

Paige complained in nearly every store that there just weren't any fashionable clothes for a pregnant teenager. They were, in her words, all 'boring outfits for frumpy older women,' which elicited a hearty laugh from Beth. Being just over six months along, Paige was showing — a little. She was fighting a constant battle not only with Tina and the medical and exercise staff, but also with her appetite, so when Beth suggested lunch, Paige was torn. She was hungry; these days it seemed that she was always a little hungry. At the same time, she wanted to stay fit, and to not be fussed at by the clinic staff. On top of that, Paige was still visibly cautious in public.

"Maybe the salad place?" Paige answered, glancing around the food court of the mall. Most places didn't have interior seating, but the soup and salad restaurant was more like a real restaurant within the mall, with an enclosed dining area that isolated it from the hustle and bustle — and background din — of the rest of the mall. The bit of privacy made it a very popular establishment at the mall.

"I bet you'd prefer a nice, juicy burger, though," Beth teased.

Paige nodded, blushing. "That does sound good, but what I'd really like is a big plate of teriyaki chicken."

"You've had teriyaki, what, three times this since last Friday?"

"Four," Paige confessed with a sheepish grin.

"That must be your craving, then," Beth chuckled. "It beats pickles with chocolate syrup, like I had."

"Yuck!"

"Yeah, _now_ it sounds disgusting, but at the time, I couldn't get enough of it!" Beth put one hand on a hip. "And as you can tell, I ate a little too much, and I never could get all those extra pounds off."

Ten minutes later, the two were seated at a small table in the salad restaurant, their shopping bags hanging on a third chair. They were conversing lightly, with Beth being careful to keep the topics away from areas that she knew were sensitive to Paige. Unexpectedly, a voice called out, "Beth!" Both women turned to see the interloper, a concerned look suddenly appearing on Paige's face.

A woman about Beth's age stepped briskly toward their table, her short brown hair bobbing around her shoulders with the same enthusiasm as the woman expressed in her voice. She looked like a slightly rounded, matronly woman, bubbling with energy. "Hi, Beth," she repeated. Without being asked, she pulled a chair from a nearby vacant table, and joined Beth and Paige. "I haven't seen you at art class for a few weeks." She put her arm lightly on Paige's as she turned to the girl. "You should her paintings," the woman said brightly. "She makes the rest of us look like amateurs!" She seemed to notice Paige for the first time. "Oh, where are my manners?" she chided herself. She extended a hand. "I'm Sonia. Beth and I have been friends since ..., well, since seventh grade! And you are?"

"I'm Paige. I'm ...."

"Paige is my god-daughter," Beth said quickly to provide cover for the girl. "She's in town visiting for a bit, so she's staying with me." Beth saw relief wash over Paige at Beth's impromptu explanation to avoid questions about her identity.

Sonia smiled graciously. "I'm pleased to meet you." She looked back at Beth. "Does she like art? If she does, you two could come to the class together." She looked at Paige, her eyes sparkling. "There are a few kids your age," she said, and then she lowered her voice conspiratorially. "And there are a couple of college boys who are, well, let's just say that if I was nineteen or twenty, I'd be trying to attract their attention!"

Beth laughed nervously; she knew that Sonia was prattling on about things that were likely to upset Paige. "Sonia, since your divorce, you're on the prowl for any young man you can find!" she teased.

"So I'm a cougar. Sue me!" Sonia giggled in a hushed voice. She turned back to Paige. "I really wish I was young again, and pretty like you are, dear," she commented wistfully. "I wouldn't make the same mistake I made the first time around, let me tell you! I think I'd spend more time looking for the right guy, and using my looks and charm to have fun while I was looking."

"You were always looking for fun, even back when we were in high school!" Beth observed.

"True. Too true." She glanced at her watch. "I'd love to stay and chat some more," Sonia said as she stood, "but I'm supposed to meet Ellen in a few minutes. We're taking some ballroom dance lessons," she said with a smile. "And the instructors? Wow! They're pretty hot." She smiled and lowered her voice. "Maybe a pair of cougars will be lucky hunting today! I hope I see you at art class soon. And bring your god-daughter! She'll love it!" With that, Sonia turned and flounced away, just as she'd come.

Paige stared after her for a moment. "She's a little ...." She made a face, not quite knowing what she wanted to say.

"She's a bit of an airhead," Beth completed the thought. "She always was flighty, and a bit promiscuous, too." She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "It was her fooling around that led to her divorce."

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For covering for me.

"What are god-mothers for?" She saw the thoughtful expression on Paige's face. "Penny for your thoughts."

"I was just thinking about what she said. That I was pretty."

Beth put her hand reassuringly on Paige's. "She wasn't kidding. You really are pretty." She watched the girl consider her words for a few moments. "Does it help to know that she didn't have any idea of who you used to be? That she assumed you were always a girl, because your appearance is completely unlike what it used to be?"

Paige nodded. "I guess so. Yeah, it does. It helps." Inwardly, Paige was beaming. She'd passed a major test at passing for a girl, and had been complimented on being pretty. It was one of the few times in her life that she could remember receiving such a compliment. And Beth was being wonderful to her. She felt — peaceful.

**********

Intimidated was the sensation Paige had as she sat in a chair, flanked by Beth and Rachel, with Morris Foundation lawyers on either end of the row of five chairs. The arrangement seemed unwieldy, like a rugby scrum around a too-small desk. Across the desk, in a tall, dark-leather chair, sat a stern-faced older man, bald except for a rim of white hair circling behind his ears. He was presently peering through his reading glasses at a sheaf of papers in his hands. When he paused to peer over his glasses at Paige, his piercing stare made her want to cower under her seat, but with Beth's hand on hers for reassurance, she merely gulped and looked nervously back at the judge. He resumed reading the document he held.

After a couple of minutes of silence, the man looked back over his glasses at Paige. "This is a rather unusual request," he commented dryly.

The lawyer to Rachel's left nodded and spoke up. "Yes, your honor," he acknowledged to the man behind the desk — a judge, no less, "but precedent does allow such requests to be granted. The entire federal witness protection plan operates under such conditions. This state has similar statutes to protect the identities of those whom the state considers to be endangered if records of the legal proceedings were to be released."

"I'm aware of the precedents and statues," the judge reminded the attorney in a firm voice. "Your brief made them perfectly clear."

"The conditions under which our client lived constitute child abuse under the law. It would therefore be considered psychologically harmful to have open records that would allow her parents to locate and contact her," the other lawyer took over the line of argument.

"Your client is still legally male," the judge reminded them. "No court proceedings have changed that fact of _his_ identity, regardless of current physical appearance."

"Your honor," Rachel spoke up, feeling the need to interject something. The Foundation attorneys both shot warning glances her way. "In the eyes of the medical field, our client is fully, functionally female in every regard. She is carrying a child, which is impossible for a male to do."

The judge sighed. "Ms. McKnight, I am aware of the medical work your clinic performs, as well as the type of medical procedures done to your clients." He had an exasperated look on his face, as if he'd dealt with Rachel many times before. "It is well known to this court that the Morris Foundation is shattering long-standing precedents across the country with regard to identity and gender. You seem to have a penchant for bringing ... interesting ... cases before this court."

"Yes, your honor," Rachel replied without a hint of shame or remorse. "And this court has dealt with previous requests in a professional, unbiased manner, which the Foundation and all of our clients appreciate."

"This case is ... unique ... in many ways. First, the request for sealed records, even of this hearing, is unusual. The request for a name and gender change being sealed, as if we were dealing with someone in the witness protection program, is unusual." He turned to look at Paige, still looking over the top of his reading glasses. "And there is the case of a missing minor boy, which is still open, according to the police department. There remains the possibility that the case could become active again, causing an expenditure of manpower and taxpayer dollars, following leads that suddenly vanish as a result of this court action. And as the records would be sealed, it is not possible to officially close the case. Your family would never know what happened to you," he admonished Paige.

Paige nodded firmly, trying to control her emotions. "I don't want them to know," she said firmly. "Not after what they did."

The judge looked back at Rachel. "Teenagers have a habit of ... exaggerating things," he said, choosing his words carefully to minimize the implication that Paige might have been lying.

"Yes, your honor, we understand that," one of the Foundation lawyers said, taking control of their presentation. "And in the submitted documents, there is the report from an independent assessment of the petitioner by Dr. Thomas Geerson, in which the psychologically traumatic events are stated."

"And that's the sum total of your corroborating evidence?" the judge asked skeptically.

"Your honor," the second Foundation lawyer said, "the court is well aware that in cases of emotional abuse and psychological trauma, there is seldom any physical evidence. With regard to the physical abuse events in early childhood, the description of that abuse is consistent with excessive force in disciplining a child, which frequently does not leave physical evidence. The burden of proof in child abuse cases is lower by design, based on the state's interest in protecting said child."

"Sonny," the judge said, irritated, "you don't need to remind the court of well-established laws of this state."

"I'm sorry, your honor," the lawyer quickly apologized, chastened by the elder jurist.

"That's okay," the judge dismissed the apology — and his verbal reprimand — with a wave of his hand. "Let's dispense with the legal formality and just get to the heart of the matter. The major question is whether the interests of the petitioner outweigh the concern of the state with regard to the still-open investigation of the disappearance of a minor child." He looked directly at Paige and made a production out of taking off his reading glasses. "In your own words, why should I grant your petition?"

Paige's eyes widened, and she turned to Rachel, seeking reassurance or guidance.

Rachel patted her hand again. "It's okay. Just tell the judge, in your own words."

Paige gulped, and then slowly turned back to the judge. "I don't want them to _ever_ find me, or bother me again." She started to choke up as she struggled against a flood of bitter memories. "I don’t want them to ever hurt me again!"

"You're no longer a minor," the judge commented, sounding a little less harsh, and a little more grandfatherly. "You don't have to ask their permission for anything, or see them, if you don’t want to."

"But ... all they've ever done is hurt me!" Paige retorted, struggling but failing to control the emotion in her voice. "All my life, all they ever did was to make me feel useless. All they did was to ignore _me_ as a person. They made it clear that I was just a spare child that they didn't want." Her voice started cracking at the surge of unpleasant memories. "Everything I tried to do for myself, they'd find a way to hurt me. They'll keep hurting me if they get a chance! I know they will. They hate me!" She wiped at the tears that were trickling out of her eyes.

The judge looked almost sympathetic as Paige fought the demons which had haunted her for years.

"Your honor," one of the Foundation attorneys interjected, "it is clear that the petitioner suffered psychological abuse at the hands of her family. It is also clear, in the opinions of a licensed psychologist and a licensed psychiatrist, that the abuse was significant, and the petitioner fears greatly for her emotional health and safety. Under the circumstances ...."

"Under the circumstances, and with the evidence presented, the court should rule in favor of the petition for sealed records of the name and gender change hearing. Yes, I know," the judge completed his sentence as if bored. He looked at Paige, who appeared a little frightened of him. He glanced at the court recorder who was taking record of the session. "Based on the evidence provided to the court, the petitioner's request is granted. The records of the hearing for name and gender change are hereby sealed under the authority of this court. Further, based on the documentation provided, a separate hearing for the petition of name and gender change is not necessary. Those petitions are approved by this court as well." He put some papers back in a folder, and then smiled. "Congratulations, Miss Fulton. It's a girl."

It wasn't clear who was more stunned — Paige, or the two Foundation lawyers. Rachel smiled knowingly, as if she'd always expected the outcome that the judge had just granted.

**********

Paige got off the bus at the designated spot. She wore a backpack, and was dressed stylishly, which was difficult since she was eight months pregnant. Other students, some older than her, disembarked from the bus as well. Paige noticed that the glances she was receiving from the girls seemed catty and harsh, while the boys looked at her warily, as if she had a communicable disease.

Breathing deeply and exhaling heavily, Paige began to plod toward one of the buildings of the community college campus. These days, her stride was less a walk and more a waddle. It was her pregnancy, Paige decided, which made the boys fearful and the girls suspicious. The fact that she was pregnant was a big deterrent. The girls, though, stared at her with icy gazes which betrayed their thoughts - Paige was a tramp and a careless slut. Otherwise, she wouldn't be pregnant. And so it was that, even among her peer group, Paige was all alone — just like the old days living in the hut.

Paige had to correct herself; she wasn't alone. She had Rachel and Tina and Beth, and her new mentor Tommi Sue. All were wonderful to her — supportive and caring and friendly, and that made a world of difference. With that comforting thought, Paige waddled into a classroom.

Six hours, two short breaks, and a longer lunch break later, Paige walked uncomfortably back to the bus stop, running once more the gauntlet of stares of disapproval. Because some classes had ended, the bus stop was crowded, and the benches were occupied. Paige stared at the guys sitting on the bench, meeting the harsh glare of one tough-looking boy. She decided to not look away, but to return his stare, meeting his unspoken challenge head-on. After a few moments, the guy turned his eyes away from Paige and stared at someone else. Paige smiled to herself. She'd just bested a would-be tough guy without lifting a finger or saying a word. Maybe Rachel was right, she thought. Maybe her self-confidence was coming back — if it had ever truly gone. Or if she'd ever truly had any, in which case she was developing something that had been long missing.

In short order, a bus arrived, and when the doors opened, some students exited, while those waiting at the stop began to file on. Paige boarded the bus when it was her turn, and discovered to her dismay that all the seats were taken. With a heavy sigh, she reached up and grasped a handhold, resigning herself to an uncomfortable ride back to the apartment.

"Young man!" The voice was sharp, attracting attention from everywhere on the bus. Paige turned her head to the source of the loud interruption. The voice belonged an older woman, probably sixty or sixty-five, with white hair and a pleasant appearance. At the moment, though, a scowl and piercing eyes dominated her appearance. She was staring at the one of the seated boys, who appeared, from the way the other boys were interacting with him, that he was the leader of the group. "Are you blind, or just rude?" Her voice was deliberately loud and penetrating, to publicly make a statement. The boy realized that she was talking to him, and turned to glare at the old woman. It was the same boy from the bench at the bus stop. "I said, are you blind, or just rude? Can't you see that this young lady is pregnant?"

"Huh?"

"If you had any manners, you'd offer your seat to the young lady. Unless you're a self-centered jackass," she chided the boy sternly.

The boy stared at the woman, trying like he had earlier, to make his opponent flinch. He failed, and her determined glare made him look away. He was obviously not used to people challenging his tough-guy punk appearance or attitude. With a snort of derision, he stood, and his friends with him, and they walked toward the back of the bus.

"Thanks," Paige said softly as she sat down.

"Twerps like that need to learn a few manners," the older woman said with a laugh. "How far along are you?" She was staring at the round bulge in Paige's abdomen, which, thanks to closely-supervised diet and exercise, was shaped like a volleyball under her shirt.

"Almost eight months," Paige answered softly, trying not to attract attention. Given the volume and tone of the older woman's outburst against the rude young men, that wasn't possible, but Paige couldn't help but try.

The rest of the bus trip was filled with pleasant conversation with the grandmotherly woman. She wasn't nosy about the circumstances of Paige's pregnancy, which was a great relief to the girl. She'd learned, in previous encounters in public, that not everyone approved of the Morris-Henderson process for rescuing unwanted fetuses, and that the subject invoked much passionate, even heated, debate. She was so absorbed in the conversation that she almost missed her stop. After a quick exchange of pleasantries, and with the older woman noting that she'd probably see Paige often, as that was a bus she usually took, Paige stepped from the bus. It was a short walk to the apartment. She eschewed the stairs, which wasn't surprising, given her condition, and rode the elevator instead.

The backpack full of books and writing materials crashed with a heavy thud on the apartment floor as Paige shrugged it off her shoulder. A few steps put her in front of a sofa, and she let herself sink into its comfortable cushions. "I'll be glad when that class is done on Friday."

Beth peeked up from the stove, where she was cooking dinner for the two. "Oh? Rough day?"

Paige shook her head. "Not really. It's just so long. Six hours of intense study every day is really tough."

Beth put down her cooking utensils and walked to the sitting area. "Why didn't you take the test two months ago? I think you were ready."

"I ... I needed more studying so I could be more confident."

Beth smiled. "You're not a good liar," she teased the girl. "You wanted to take the test under your new name, so there weren't any records of your having gotten your GED."

Paige laughed. "That's exactly what Suzie and Rachel both said, too."

"Next, you're going to try to tell me that the three of us are conspiring, right?"

"No. I don't need to tell you, because you all know that you know it's true!" She let her head fall back against a pillow on the arm of the sofa, sighing contentedly. "There's one thing about the class that's weird, though."

"What's that?"

Paige frowned. "Some of the guys look at me funny," she explained. It's ... weird having guys look at me."

Beth suppressed a chuckle. "Well, you are a pretty girl, so it's natural that they'd stare. And your pregnancy probably has them curious."

"About what?" Paige asked, and then her eyes widened as her mind answered the question. "Oh." She gave a disgusted look. "That's ... gross!" She wrinkled her nose a little more. "Do you really think that _they_ think that just because I'm pregnant, I'm easy?"

Beth shrugged. "Some do. You should know how guys are."

Paige scowled at Beth, uncomfortable with the implication. "No, I don't know. I spent most of my teenage years as an outcast, remember?" she said sarcastically.

"I'm sorry," Beth apologized quickly. "It's just that, well, you _were_ a boy, but I never have been. I have a lot less experience at how guys think than you do." She saw the girl's expression soften. "I guess I figured that you would have heard locker-room talk in gym class and such."

Paige hung her head sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess I did," she said. "Mostly, I thought it was embarrassing the way the guys talked. You know — who was easy, making out, French kissing, sex, oral sex — all of that stuff."

"So you know that some guys _would_ think you were easy because you were pregnant."

Paige nodded. "Yeah, I guess so." She looked up, a defiant expression on her face. "But I'm not what they think I am. I'm not going to do any of that ... stuff!"

Beth smiled. "I wouldn't think less of you if you did experiment, you know," she reassured the girl. "It's natural. Most girls do, at some time in their lives. All I'd say is, if you do, you need to be careful."

**********

Suzie leaped up from her desk and hugged Paige. "I hear congratulations are in order," she said warmly.

Paige blushed. "Yeah, I guess."

Suzie wasn't put off by her modesty. "It's a pretty big accomplishment! You should be proud. You caught up over two years of high school in about three months, and now you've got your diploma. That's impressive." She smiled. "What does that tell you?"

"That high school is mostly a waste of time," Paige volunteered with a smile.

Suzie couldn't stifle her guffaw at Paige's accurate, if distorted, logic. "I meant about you, silly! I'd say that it shows you're a smart, determined young lady."

"Don't forget very pregnant," Paige giggled as she cradled her enlarged belly with her hands.

"Let's go sit down so you can rest. I've been there — I know what it's like to be pregnant." Suzie led Paige back toward a break room, where the two sat down. "Would you like some juice, or a fruit cup? Yogurt?"

"I'll have some strawberry yogurt if you have any," Paige replied. "And a bottle of water."

Suzie retrieved something for herself and Paige's requested food and beverage. "What brings you here today? Gym, or Rachel?"

Paige smiled. "You don't know? I figured you knew _everything_ that happened around here! Actually, it's both, _and_ a checkup with Tina. I have an appointment with Rachel, first, though."

"I'll just pop around the corner and let Rachel know you're here, then," Suzie said.

"No need," Rachel called from the doorway. "I caught a glimpse of you two in the hallway, so I knew Paige was already here."

Paige put on a pout. "I just got comfortable, and got something to eat, and now I have to move again?"

Rachel laughed lightly. "If you'd like, I can go get my notepad, and we can meet right here. You know I don't like to always be formal or stick to a boring routine."

Paige smiled. "Yeah, I know. If you want my opinion, this is better than the gym."

"What, you don't like getting a two-fer? Exercise your mind and your body all at once?" Suzie said with feigned shock.

"It's hard enough to exercise without having to think about the questions Rachel is asking."

"Since I'm working on my counseling degree, would you mind if I stay for the discussion?" Suzie asked.

"Sure, why not?" Paige said with a shrug.

A few minutes later, Rachel returned with both a laptop and her notepad, closed the door behind herself, and then sat down and took a long sip from the cup of coffee Suzie had poured for her. She purred contentedly, her eyes half-closed as she reveled in the taste of the warm beverage. "So, Paige," she began, "why do you seem so insufferably pleased with yourself?"

Paige's eyes widened. "Me? What gives you that idea?"

"Because you're grinning like the cat that ate the canary," Rachel answered. She thought for a moment. "Did you pass?" Paige's grin was all the answer Rachel and Suzie needed. "Congratulations," Rachel said, scooting herself across couch to give Paige a hug.

"Now what?" Suzie asked.

"Beth and I have talked about going to community college to get an associate's degree in broadcasting. The fall term starts about two months after I'm due," Paige answered simply. "I'm torn, though. Part of me really wants to do something like that, but part of me is scared silly."

"I was hoping you'd pick something in health care," Suzie suggested.

Paige laughed. "You and Tina and everyone else on the medical staff." She noticed that Rachel seemed tense. "What's up?" Paige asked.

"You've made remarkable progress in the last month and a half. Your eyes have some sparkle in them now, like you're enjoying life."

"Yeah," Paige said softly, almost to herself. "Yeah, I guess I am. How about that!"

"You're pretty well past your fears," Rachel said solemnly, "but there's something that you need to see."

"Oh?" Paige's relaxed state vanished in an instant, replaced by a tone of suspicion.

Rachel handed the laptop to Paige.

As she gazed at the computer display, Paige's eyes showed her surprise, and then, slowly, her expression hardened and her lips pursed tightly together. "Why this? Why now?"

"Paige, I didn't think you knew about these," Rachel said softly. "You needed to know. Maybe they hurt you, but I'm sure it wasn't on purpose. Parents are amateurs, and since every child is different, things that work for one don't work for another. Your absence hurt them, maybe as much as they hurt you."

"No." Paige's voice was firm. Despite that, she couldn't help but thumb through page after page of 'missing person' notices that had been posted over more than two years. Despite her profession of anger, she'd been surprised at the reward that was offered for just _information_ about Pete's whereabouts.

"Paige," Suzie chimed in, resting her hand lightly on the girl's arm, "we all know that they hurt you. But, from the looks of this, it wasn't anything malicious. It was through ignorance. It was because they didn't know. Your disappearance hurt them."

"After what they did to me, I won't give them the satisfaction," Paige said stubbornly. Rachel could see, though, that the girl's eyes were misty, and her voice cracked with emotion. For several long seconds, Paige stared at one display, at the picture of a fifteen-year-old boy who had run away. From the number of ads that she'd seen, she was having real doubts about her conviction that her parents hadn't cared, but that she _had_ been missed.

"Why now?" Paige wailed as tears overcame her. "I ... felt good about myself. This is .,. confusing!"

"Because you've been acting out of fear and anger and hatred," Rachel replied softly, her hand resting reassuringly on Paige's arm. "That's not healthy."

"You need to confront that anger," Suzie added. "You need to understand it, so you can _really_ move forward."

Paige sat in silence for a few moments. "Now ... I wonder ... that they're still worried."

"Imagine what it's like for a parent when a child disappears. They probably worry that you're in trouble ... or worse."

Suzie nodded. "There's no closure for them. They might be living with as much anxiety as you — but their fears are probably that something really bad happened to you."

"You always say you weren't valued by your family," Rachel continued. "These posters tell a different story."

"Why? If I was so valued, why did they do the stuff they did? Why did they hurt me so much?"

Rachel shook her head. "Maybe they didn't know."

Paige stared at the last ad displayed on the computer. She thought about what Rachel and Suzie had said. Slowly, she realized that they were right — she needed to resolve her anger toward her family, and at the same time, to remove the doubt that the posters had just introduced. "I could ... tell them ... that I'm alive?"

Rachel was stunned by Paige's suggestion. It was far more than she'd expected from the girl. "I ... suppose."

"Do you think ... that they'd recognize my voice?"

Suzie shook her head. "Not now. Not after the voice lessons and training."

"Would ... would they recognize me?"

Rachel's eyes widened in surprise. "Paige," she began, "what are you thinking?" She was alarmed at where the girl was taking the conversation — and afraid of what the outcome might be.

"Maybe, I ... I could meet _her_," Paige said softly. "That way, I could see her face, and know if she was lying again or not."

"Paige, that's _way_ too risky! You're not ...."

"I'm not getting better until I get past the anger, right?" Paige demanded. "That’s what you keep saying."

"But not like _this_!" Suzie objected. "This is a little ... radical, don't you think?"

"You keep saying that I don't look anything like I did," Paige countered. "And there's no way a girl who's as pregnant as I am," she added, rubbing her belly absently, "could ever be mistaken for him, right?"

"I suppose," Rachel winced.

"If I met with her, and told her that, uh, I'd seen Pete and knew he was alive, then at least I wouldn't ever have to feel guilty about them worrying, would I?"

"Paige, that's a very risky plan. It doesn't sound like a good reason to risk another panic attack."

"I _need_ to get past this," Paige said firmly. The anger and resentment toward her family was a constant irritant, but there was still a tiny seed of hope that maybe, Pete _had_ been loved, after all. Though it was faint, and had always been overshadowed by anger and hatred, a tiny spark remained of belief that her family really did care. "If I _do_ meet with her," Paige continued, "I want you and Suzie and Beth there with me — for support."

Rachel shook her head again. "I _really_ don't like your plan," she commented with a frown. "But I also know how stubborn you can be, so I guess ...."

Paige grinned. "I'm not stubborn," she countered briskly. "I'm just ... determined."

**********

"Tell me about how _you_ felt rejected," Paige implored Tommi Sue.

Tommi swallowed the bite of apple turnover that she was eating. "You're as bad as my friend Jillian," she said with a smile. "If I'd have let her, she'd have bought me coffee and pastries every day we were in class!" She washed down the pastry with a sip of juice. "My biological father was a big man, a coal miner, just like the stereotype. He was very disappointed in me, since I wasn't large, and I didn't play sports. I always felt resentment from him, to the very day he died. My mom resented me because she couldn't get a degree and take care of two, then three, children. Even on her deathbed, she was mean and cruel to me, because she blamed me for the way she was stuck."

"That's harsh!"

"That's not the half of it. My ... home ... was in coal country in West Virginia. When the dictionary defines 'redneck', it's got a class picture from my high school!" Tommi said with a chuckle. "Once word got out about what I'd done — with the procedure and pregnancy and everything, I couldn't ever go back. It wouldn't be safe."

"Wow!"

"My parents, though, more than make up for that. They're the most wonderful people I ever met — apart from Erica, of course."

"Your parents? But ... you said ...." Paige was confused.

"Katie's - my college roommate - parents adopted my sister and me. I barely even think of my biological parents as being parents anymore. Mom and Dad are my parents."

"Is it something about the program that attracts people like you and me?" Paige couldn’t help but ask.

Tommi just shrugged with a smile as she took another sip of juice.

"What would you do ... if you were me, I mean? Would you go through with it?"

"My sister Sara once told me that I had to reach out, even if I was rebuffed, because I wasn't like them. She was right. I got rejected again, but I was finally able to let go of my anger so it didn't control me."

"So you think I should meet with her."

Tommi grinned. "I didn't say that. I only told you what I did. You have to decide for yourself. What worked for me won't work for everyone." She shook her head sadly. "Sorry, but the burden of deciding is on you."

"If you were me ...?" Paige began.

"I'm not," Tommi answered again. "But if I were, yes," she continued, a sad look in her eyes, "I think you're right. I think you need to try. If it were me, I'd have to know, in my heart, that I did what I could, and that anything left wasn't my fault." She paused, and her expression got grim. "But don't get your hopes up for anything miraculous," she warned. "You're as likely to get more rejection as you are to get something positive." She pushed back her juice cup. "Now, you told me you wanted to do some shopping. I'm going to hold you to that."

**********

Beth held Paige's hand as they walked into the mall. Paige was so nervous she was trembling, and Beth's reassuring grasp helped her steel herself for the task she was undertaking. As they entered the food court, Paige saw Rachel and Suzie sitting at a table; both gave her reassuring nods.

"I'm not sure ... I can go through with this," Paige squeaked nervously. She glanced around, and suddenly stiffened. "There she is."

Beth followed Paige's stare, and saw a woman sitting alone at a table. From Paige's description, she half-expected a red devil-woman with horns and fangs. Instead, the woman looked sad and lonely. Based on Paige's age, the woman should have been in her mid forties; but with sunken eyes, worry wrinkles on her forehead, and some premature graying, she looked like she was fifteen to twenty years older than that. She was thin, even gaunt, and she appeared frail.

"I ... I can't do this," Paige whispered insistently to Beth.

"It's your decision," Beth countered.

Paige looked at Beth, and saw reassurance in her eyes. She glanced at Rachel and Suzie, and saw their looks of support. Most of all, she heard her mentor's words echoing in her brain — she had to try. Paige took a deep breath, visibly steeling herself.

"Would you like me to go with you?" Beth asked, already knowing the answer.

Paige nodded. Without further words, the two walked toward the woman.

"Excuse me," Paige stammered, her voice quavering with her jangled nerves, "are you Mrs. Franklin?" Her hand would have been trembling worse but for Beth holding it reassuringly.

Mrs. Franklin looked up. She looked frightened as she nodded imperceptibly. "Are you ... the girl that left the message on my phone?" she asked.

Paige glanced at Beth, and felt a reassuring squeeze. "Yes, ma'am," she said softly.

"You ... you know something ... about my son?" Mrs. Franklin asked, her voice trembling. Beth knew that she was terrified that she was going to hear bad news.

"I ... I saw a guy at ... at the ... at the dance club," Paige croaked. "You know the one — the favorite hangout spot for kids under twenty-one?"

"How do you know it was my son?" Mrs. Franklin was wary, unwilling to get her hopes up. "Did you talk to him?"

Paige forced herself to remain calm, and to shrug her shoulders. "A couple of us were talking with him. You know how it is — teens get together and talk as a group. So I didn't directly talk to him. But there was something about him that stuck in my head for some reason."

"How ... how do you know it was him?" Mrs. Franklin sounded like she was forcing herself to not get her hopes up on such flimsy evidence.

"A couple of days ago, I saw one of the missing person sites while I was browsing the web. Something seemed familiar about the one entry you posted — I knew I'd see the face." She shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "It took a bit for me to remember, though."

"Are you sure?" Mrs. Franklin seemed to be getting her hopes up, albeit reluctantly.

"Pretty sure."

Relief flooded visibly over Mrs. Franklin. "Oh, thank God!" she said as tears gushed forth. "We ... we spent so many years worrying ... that something had happened to him." She wiped at her tears. "Was he ... okay? Did he look okay?"

"I guess," Paige answered hesitantly. "Like I said, I didn't talk to him, and it was only a few minutes." She was becoming convinced that Mrs. Franklin had no idea that she was sitting across the table from her former son. It helped steady her jangled nerves.

"Can you tell me anything else? What he's doing? Anything?" She sounded desperate for more information. She saw Paige shake her head. "At least ...." She shook her head as she wiped at her tears. "I'm sorry. It's just ... overwhelming. We hadn't given up on him, but after this long ...." She let her gaze drop to her hands atop the table. "I don't know how many times we've had to go to the morgue to see if an ... unidentified ... body ... was Peter!"

Paige stiffened as her mom continued to talk. She was completely unmoved by her mom's emotional display, or the words she spoke.

Mrs. Franklin shook her head. "I ... we ... really don't know why he ran away. We just don't know. We had a good, loving home. We all loved him very much. I ... don't understand."

Paige stood suddenly. "I can't tell you anything else," she said stiffly.

Mrs. Franklin looked up at the girl. "Thank you for telling me what you do know. But if you do see him again, would you please tell him that we want him to come home?"

"Yeah." From her tone of voice, she could have easily dismissively said 'whatever'. Without a further word, she turned and walked quickly away.

It took a bit for Suzie, Beth, and Rachel to catch up to Paige, who was striding out of the mall at a very rapid pace. "Wait up, Paige," Suzie called out to her.

Paige stopped and turned. Her face was a mask of anger, surprising the three women. "They don't have a clue what they did to me!" she snarled. "Not a single fucking clue!"

"Why don't we go straight to my office to talk," Rachel suggested. She couldn't hide her disappointment in how the meeting went, nor in herself for allowing Paige to meet with her mom.

**********

Paige sat on the couch, still stewing from the meeting with her mom, and then the meeting with Rachel, Suzie, and Beth. Despite Tommi's warning, Paige had let herself have a _little_ hope. But her mother's cluelessness about why Pete had run away was too much for Paige to accept.

"Your family isn't perfect," Beth said again, trying to elicit some response from the girl. "Parents can't see or know everything. It's part of being human." Paige just sat, glaring at the television. "Did you ever tell them how you felt?" Beth asked, exasperated.

"They never listened," Paige answered gruffly.

"Well, then, why don't you tell them now? Get everything off your chest, so to speak."

"What, walk up and say, 'Hi. I'm Peter, and here's why I hate you.'?" She snorted derisively. "Yeah, like they'd believe that, or even if they did, it wouldn't help. It never did before."

Beth clenched her teeth for a moment so she wouldn't blurt out the first response she had, which was that Paige was acting like a brat. "You could always e-mail them. Their e-mail address is on all their notices."

"And have them trace it back here? I know how much you can find just from an e-mail address!" Paige retorted.

"I'm sure Charlotte down at the office could set up something so it stays anonymous. She's a whiz at computers and stuff, and we've had to use anonymous e-mails from time to time." She thought she saw Paige's determination waver. "At least you can write the note that you'd _like_ to send. Even if you never send it, you'll get it off your chest."

"You're not going to let up on me, are you?" Paige demanded.

"No. You can't sit on the couch and stew. It's been two days, and you haven't done anything apart from sitting there feeling sorry for yourself."

"Fine! I'll write the stupid letter then, if it'll get you off my back."

Rachel gave her a reproving look. "Paige," she admonished the girl, speaking volumes of her disapproval merely by her tone of voice.

"And I'll check with Charlotte to find out how you can send it. Would you like to be able to receive any replies?" Beth added.

"No!" Paige snapped. "I don't want to hear from them!"

"Okay," Beth answered. She knew that Paige would eventually become curious, if for no reason than to read their reply to her note explaining why she left.

Later that afternoon, Beth sat at her home computer exchanging e-mails with the office. Charlotte was providing her instructions as to how to send, and receive, anonymous e-mails. Paige walked up silently and slid a printed page onto Beth's keyboard. Beth interrupted her train of thought and picked up the page, turning to look at Paige. The girl, however, was already going to her brooding spot on the couch.

Beth started to read the page, and the further she read, the further her jaw hung in disbelief. Finally, she finished reading, and turned. "You want to send _this_?" she asked, astonished. The note Paige had typed was business-like in tone, and brutal in its detailed cataloguing of her family's offenses. No-one who received such a note would think it had even the tiniest shred of warmth or affection. It was dripping with venomous hatred.

Paige didn't look away from the television. "Yes."

Beth sighed, exasperated with the girl's behavior. In retrospect, Paige's plan appeared to have backfired completely. Any progress that Paige had made toward ridding herself of the demons had been set back by the memories stirred by the meeting. It hadn't helped.

Beth realized instinctively that sending the note at that moment, when that Paige had been inflamed by anger when writing it, would be a mistake. Paige needed time to calm down so she could think rationally think about the note before she sent it. And Beth knew that she'd have to urge Paige to give Rachel a copy. If the girl wouldn't, then Beth might have to go behind her back. She hated to do that, however; it would backfire on her one day if she had to keep tattling.

Beth thought back to how Mrs. Franklin appeared. She couldn't help but think that Paige's mom was still visibly grieving the loss of her son. She was defeated by angst at why her son had left. There was no doubt in Beth's mind that the loss of their son had aged Mrs. Franklin by years. Who knew what his father looked like? He could have suffered even more. The brother and sister that Paige claimed hated Pete — were they blaming themselves, knowing that they'd been abusive toward their brother, and wondering if they'd pushed Pete once too often or a little too far?

Beth's thoughts returned to Paige's mother. Beth knew only too well the agony in the heart of a mother who'd lost a child. She felt the inner conflict; Paige was her friend, and client, and Paige trusted her. But Beth could sympathize with Mrs. Franklin.

Beth shook her head to clear the conflicting feelings. She _had_ to be loyal to her friend, no matter how much she understood Mrs. Franklin's suffering. She couldn't let her empathy for Paige's mom cloud her interactions with the girl. Paige needed someone she could trust implicitly, and at present, Beth filled that role.

**********

"You seem a little tense today," Tina commented as she probed Paige's very round, pregnant belly with her stethoscope.

"I'm okay," Paige denied, but not very convincingly.

"I bet you're worried a little about your upcoming delivery."

"Wouldn't you be if you were in my shoes?" Paige asked. "Used to be a boy, now I'm a pregnant girl, and I'm going to deliver a baby. No sweat. Piece of cake." Her last comments were more than a touch sarcastic.

"You're more uptight than that," Tina observed. "There's something else bothering you, isn't there?"

"Nothing you can help me with," Paige said bitterly.

Tina straightened and let her stethoscope hang free. "Oh. Something to discuss with Rachel, I take it?"

Paige just shrugged.

"Up in the stirrups," Tina ordered. "You should know the drill by now," she added with a smile.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to this," Paige commented. "It's so ...."

"Personal? Invasive? Uncomfortable?"

"All of the above," Paige answered with a sheepish smile.

"I don't know a woman who _is_ comfortable with gyno exams," Tina laughed. "But once you've had a baby — and the loss of privacy that entails — it just becomes one of those things that you have to do, and you don't think about it."

As Tina was straightening up after her exam of Paige, Paige asked softly, "Did you ever forget anything for your own kids? You know, important dates, things you'd promised to do with them, things you were going to buy?"

"This is about your parents, isn't it?" Tina asked with certainty. Paige just nodded as she swung her legs out of the stirrups and sat up. "I'm not the one you want to talk to about that," Tina replied. "You need to talk to Rachel or one of the other counselors. Or Beth."

"But did you?"

Tina bit her lip. "Uh, yeah," she answered hesitantly. "A couple of times." She looked directly at Paige, making eye contact so Paige could gauge Tina's feelings. "I felt terrible about it when I remembered."

"Did you apologize?"

Tina nodded. "I couldn't stop apologizing," she explained.

"How would your kids have felt if you hadn't apologized?"

Tina shook her head. "I don't know. Both times, I worried that they would think I didn't love them."

"What if you hadn't remembered? What would they have felt?"

"I can't answer that," Tina said. "That's way out of my area of expertise. All I can tell you is that a good parent would be very remorseful to discover that they'd accidentally done that."

"Mine aren't," Paige said softly, so softly that Tina barely heard.

Tina decided to ignore the girl's comment. "We're done with you for today, so you can get dressed and go meet with Rachel. I'll see you again on Wednesday?"

"Yeah." As soon as Tina closed the door behind her, Paige slipped off the gown and dressed herself. Her breasts were enlarged, and with the very round tummy, it was awkward to get her clothes on. She waddled out of the exam room, and down to the nurse's station.

"All done?" Deb was on duty at the nurse's station, which puzzled Paige, since Beth also was working the shift.

"Yeah," Paige answered, "until Wednesday."

"We'll be seeing more and more of you as you get closer. You've got, what, a week and a half?" Deb asked.

"Ugh. Don't remind me."

"You'll do fine," Deb reassured her. "I believe Rachel is waiting for you. You know the way."

"Yeah," Paige chuckled. "I've been here so often that I could find my way around this place blindfolded. See you later." She gave Deb a half-wave goodbye, but Deb had already turned her attention back to her paperwork.

Paige got a surprise when she walked into Rachel's office. Beth was sitting on the sofa, talking with Rachel. Immediately, Paige stiffened, feeling like she was being ambushed. "Hi," she said cautiously.

"Hi, Paige," Rachel said cheerfully. Despite the tone of her voice, there was something in her eyes that indicated displeasure. "Have a seat."

Watching Beth warily, Paige sat down, smoothing her skirt as she did so. The gestures were so automatic that she wasn't even aware of them anymore. "What's up?"

"I'm concerned about the e-mail you wrote to your family," Rachel said evenly.

Paige's eyes narrowed, and burned with anger. "You told!" she spat at Beth.

Beth nodded, carefully keeping her expression neutral. "Yes, dear," she said calmly. "I had to. You should know that."

"But ... it was private!"

Rachel shook her head. "No, Paige. Once you asked Beth to send it, you knew that she'd probably tell me. Didn't you?"

Paige alternated glaring at Beth, and then at Rachel. After several awkward seconds, she dropped her gaze. "Yeah, I guess," she admitted softly.

"Paige, honey," Beth pleaded softly, "I had to. That letter was so full of anger and hate. I had to share it with Rachel." She shook her head. "It's not good to hold in that much anger. It doesn't do you any good."

"I have _reason_ to hate them!" Paige snarled.

"But not to lash out at them, to try to hurt them the way they hurt you. Trying to get revenge won't help you get past the hurt and anger," Rachel admonished the girl.

"Why not? I want them to feel some of the hurt they made me feel."

"And what good would that do?" Rachel asked. "Would it make you hurt less inside? Would it take away the pain you've carried around for years? Will it suddenly be better if you lash out at them?"

"But ...," Paige started to reply. She halted, having absorbed the full meaning of Rachel's words. She let her gaze drop slowly toward the floor. "I guess not," she said sheepishly.

"But it felt good to get it all out," Rachel said to reassure the girl. "It felt good to write down all the things that had hurt you, didn't it?"

Paige nodded as she spoke. "Yeah."

"Here's one more question to think about," Rachel said. "If they didn't know what they'd done, do you think it would be good for you to tell them? In a non-spiteful way, I mean."

"I ... I hadn't thought of that," Paige replied. "I just wanted to make them hurt."

Rachel handed a couple of printed pages to the girl. "Read a bit, please."

Paige took the papers, confusion on her features. She started to read, and as she did, a scowl formed. She stopped suddenly, and let the hand holding the paper drop to her lap.

"A little over the top?" Rachel asked.

In answer, Paige just nodded.

"Why don't you try again, but this time, tell the story without the anger or hatred. Tell them how they hurt you." She saw Paige's expression of shock at what Rachel had asked her to do. "Yes, you heard me right," Rachel said with a nod. "Write it again, but this time, stick to the facts. Try to keep your anger in check."

"Is that an assignment?" Paige asked hesitantly.

Rachel chuckled. "Yes. And that means that I have to grade it before you can send it."

"I guess that's best."

Beth patted Paige's hand again. "Yes. And when you're ready to send it, we'll get that secure, anonymous e-mail set up for you. That way, you can tell them what you need to, but not have to worry about them finding you."

Paige's expression showed her uncertainty. "Is it okay to tell them that I don't want to ever see them again? That they shouldn't look for me, because they'll never find me?"

Rachel nodded. "Tell them what you think you need to. If it includes your desire to never see them again, then add it."

"Okay," Paige replied in a quiet voice. "I'll start working on it."

"No hurry. But if I were you," Rachel cautioned, "I'd send it before you deliver the baby, because afterwards, your emotions _are_ going to be a little crazy, remember? It might make it a bit harder to be dispassionate and factual."

**********

"You did great."

"I don't feel like it," Paige replied to Beth. She lay in a hospital bed at the clinic, resting after delivering her baby. "I had to have the epidural, and I couldn't push."

"It's called labor for a reason, honey," Beth answered with a smile. "It's not easy for most women."

"I'm not 'most women,' in case you'd forgotten," Paige commented dryly.

"You didn't have any complications," Beth reassured her, patting Paige's hand. "It was relatively short, for your first."

"Short? That was short?" Paige asked, astonished.

Beth nodded. "I was in labor for almost thirty hours with Michael," she said. Her voice cracked at the end.

"I wish I could have held the baby. But I know I couldn't." Paige sighed, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. "I ... I don't think I'd give her back if I did, though." She sounded sad.

"It's hard," Beth observed. "It's very hard for first-time clients. You carried a miracle in you for over four months, and then she's gone. But you helped her get a good start in life, and she has a new family to love her."

"I want my own baby to love," Paige blurted out of the blue.

"Aren't you afraid of being a parent?" Beth was shocked by Paige's sudden revelation.

Paige sighed. "Yeah. But I was scared of giving birth, too. I ... I need to show ...." She halted suddenly, afraid that she'd already said too much.

"I know, hon," Beth said soothingly.

"What's it like to raise a child?"

Beth laughed. "It's hard, especially for a single mom. But it can be the most rewarding thing in the world."

Paige turned toward Beth. "Can you tell me about Michael, please?"

Beth smiled. "He was a little angel — most of the time. But sometimes, he was a brat. He was always unpredictable." She chuckled. "Like most children, I guess. Sometimes, he'd be doing something bad, and then, out of the blue, he'd say or do the sweetest thing that'd make me forget how bad he'd been."

"Did you ever wish ...?"

Beth shook her head emphatically. "No, never. He was ... everything ... to me. He was my little baby. Even when he grew up, I could still see the sleeping little baby in his face, and in his eyes." She wiped at a tear. "Sometimes, raising him by myself was really hard. Staying up all night with him when he was sick, feeling totally helpless and praying that his fever would break. When he was older, staying up late until he got home, because I always worried about him, no matter how often he told me he was grown up and didn't need me to worry."

"Why? Why would you worry that much?"

Beth smiled. "Because I loved him. Even when he was misbehaving, he brought so much joy into my life."

"I noticed," Paige said hesitantly, "that you had a lot of things from him in the closet."

"My favorite is a picture he drew in fifth grade. He had an assignment to draw his favorite person." She shook her head as memories flooded back.

"Is that the one you have framed in the hall?" Paige asked.

Beth nodded. "He stayed up late for four nights in a row working on it, but he wouldn’t let me see. And then he brought home his graded assignment. It was a picture of me." She looked unseeingly at the wall, her mind's eye reliving the moment. "That's when I knew he was going to be an artist. He drew an outstanding pencil sketch. The teachers thought he'd cheated, until he drew a few things for them in class." She shook her head slowly. "They all encouraged him to keep drawing, and to study art. His high school art teacher was so impressed by his talent that she bent over backwards to help him get a scholarship, too."

"What was he like? I mean as a small boy?"

Beth smiled, but there was sadness in her smile. "He was always so curious, and so eager to please his mommy. He was very sensitive. If he did something wrong, all I had to do was raise my voice a little, and he knew he'd been bad, and he'd get so remorseful. I never, ever, ever had to spank him." Beth got the far-away look again. "I remember when he was three; we went to the beach for his first time, and he was afraid of the waves, but trying to show me he was brave. When a wave came in, he'd run away, and then turn and chase it back into the ocean." She sighed. "He always made friends so easily. And one of his friend's dads took him under his wing, so he could do 'boy stuff', like playing baseball and cub scouts and going to football games." She shook her head sadly. "One time, when he was in grade school, he got home from a football game with his friend's family, and he saw me sitting alone waiting for him. He was so apologetic for doing things that didn't include me, because he wanted to please me. I told him that I was glad for him that he could do things other boys did."

Paige lay on her bed, not saying a word, her full attention on Beth. She knew the memories of Michael were painful for Beth, but Paige didn't know what to say.

"When he went to the junior prom, he felt guilty about leaving me home alone."

"Did he have any girlfriends?"

Beth smiled, but her eyes were half-closed, heavy with sorrow. "There were two girls he dated. Both of them were very sweet girls. I worried about him being with them — like any parent would. It was kind of awkward to have 'the talk' with a boy when you're his mother."

"I suppose it was." Paige had a sad look on her own face. "I wouldn't know. No-one ever took the time with me."

"Oh, honey," Beth said sympathetically, holding Paige's hand.

"You still miss him a lot, don't you?" Paige asked simply.

Beth nodded as she wiped at her tears. "Yes, dear. I miss him very much. I suppose I'll always miss him. He was my baby." She paused, and the silence in the room was palpable. Paige dared not say anything for fear of upsetting Beth with more unhappy memories, while Beth took some time to compose herself. "We weren't perfect. We had disagreements, and we had a huge argument when he bought his motorcycle," Beth admitted. Tears flowed freely. "I hated that thing. And then he had the ... accident. That was a mother's worst nightmare come true. He was so bandaged and broken in that hospital bed. Not at all like my beautiful boy." She looked away. "He had several broken ribs and a punctured lung, plus liver damage, and he was on life support. When the neurosurgeon told me he had severe brain damage, and I knew how crippled he would be from the injuries ...." Her voice trailed off, yielding another awkward silence. "That was the hardest thing I ever had to do — to have them disconnect his life support." She didn't try to wipe the wetness from her cheeks. "I would have done anything for him, but it wouldn't have been fair to Michael to live like that. I had to let him go, no matter how much it hurt me."

The two sat wordlessly as Paige considered Beth's story, and Beth fought her continuing grief.

"After I lost Michael too, I blamed myself. I told myself that God had taken him because I'd done something wrong. I had pretty severe depression. It took me a long time to feel like there was something worth living for." She looked up and tried to put on a smile. "Eventually I went to work for the Morris Foundation, and now I'm helping save babies. It's the least I can do."

"Is that ... is that why you're ... being so nice to me?" Paige asked hesitantly. "Is that why you help me?"

"Part of it is my job, hon," Beth said, holding Paige's hand. "But it's more than that now. I feel like I'm getting a chance to pick up where I left off with Michael. I feel like I can make a difference." A warm smile crossed her face. "I like you. I like having you around. I feel ... complete again, for the first time since Michael's accident."

Paige lay back on her pillow, letting her gaze drift to the ceiling. She was stunned by what Beth had told her, and that Beth said — in so many words — that she cared for Paige, and wanted to help her, just like she'd helped her own son. Maybe even to love her. Paige swallowed hard as she considered that, for the first time in her life, she felt wanted and loved. And she knew, from Beth's description of raising a child, and her own depression over separation from the baby she'd carried, that she was going to have her own child — someday.

On an impulse, Paige pushed herself upright to a sitting position, and she wrapped her arms around Beth. "Thank you."

"For what?" Beth asked, confused.

"For being here for me. For being so caring and so generous to me."

**********

Operation Rescue: In Plain Sight - Chapter 5
(to be continued)