Chapter One: Sweet Dreams

I felt ridged, sitting there in the courtroom, with my mother sitting next to me like some goddamned handler. I knew full well that the opposing side was just waiting to spray me if I got out of hand. It was like I was a fucking dog; I was only fourteen-years-old, and these charges were complete madness.

I watched then as the door creaked open, and a gasp nearly escaped my throat when I saw that Judge Whitmore, still working after all this time, stepped out without assistance. He crossed over behind the witness stand and went to his seat, shooting my mother an apologetic look as his black robes swished around him. "Be seated," he said, his accent rich as he set his paperwork in front of him and sat down himself. "Will the defendant please rise?"

I got to my feet then, knowing that I had to cooperate, even though my senses were screaming for me to fucking run out of there. I turned and looked over my shoulder then, spotting Pops and Uncle Ian sitting directly behind me. In their expressions, worried as they were, I felt their love from where I stood, and I knew everything would be all right.

"The charges stacked against the defendant, Iana Phillipa Gallagher-Blomqvist, are attempted murder in the first degree, assault and battery in the first degree, and aggravated assault resulting in a coma-like state." Judge Whitmore raised his eyes to mine then, and I did my best not to come undone at the disappointed look he gave me in the short silence that followed. "How does the defendant plead?"

"Not guilty, Your Honor, by reason of mental disease or defect," I replied.

Judge Whitmore nodded. "I am setting a six-month course of rigorous therapy for you, Miss Gallagher-Blomqvist, during which time a diagnosis will be made. During that time, if a diagnosis is made, my ruling will be made easier. During this time, you will be returned to the custody of your mother and father, and be placed under house arrest. You will be permitted to go to school and to work, and your work schedule will be given to you by your probation officer so that they can plan your curfew accordingly. Your schedule will consist of school, work, and the therapy sessions. Provided that you comply with this, your sentencing could prove to be a lighter one. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Court is adjourned for the day, then. Murphy, I expect you to escort your daughter directly to her probation officer, where she will be fitted with an ankle bracelet."

My mother nodded. "Yes, Your Honor."

"Court is adjourned," Judge Whitmore said for a second time, this time banging his gavel, hard, onto his judge's table.

. . .

I left the government building once I'd handed over the petition, and stepped outside into the sunshine, which almost seemed to be waiting for me. It felt good on my skin, and I smiled a little then as I felt my child flipping around inside me. "What do you think, baby? You going to be more into sunshine, or snow?" I laughed aloud then as I spoke to my child, making my way down the steps and over towards my car. As I dug into my pocket to get my keys out, I heard footsteps behind me, and immediately turned around to see who was following me. "Liam?" I asked, my voice hitching slightly in my throat.

Liam sighed, remaining where he stood a few paces away from me. He had deep purple circles underneath his eyes, but I knew that could happen to you when you flew across the world as much as he did. "Iana."

I swallowed then, not really sure what to do as I kept my back to him, not wanting him to see my stomach, which had popped slightly in his absence. I knew that, because of his and Penny's texts to me, that he was signing a deal in Italy for the last nearly two weeks, but he wasn't due back until the day after tomorrow. "Trip good?" I asked.

He shook his head, his silvery eyes dark, likely from the lack of sleep. "Cut the crap, Iana. I know what's been going on here."

I sighed, pulling my sweater more closely around me then, judging that it was safe to turn around before I finally permitted myself to do so. "Yeah?" I asked, crossing my arms. "Well, I welcome your guess-work, Liam. Go ahead and guess."

"You trying to get a lawyer here or some shit?" he asked.

I scoffed. "A lawyer? Please. My mother and her husband are lawyers, and some of the best this county has ever seen, thank you very much. Sure, my relationship with either of them isn't the best right now, but I can always come to them for any old thing…"

He jabbed a finger in the direction of the building I'd just exited from. "You ghetto chicks are all the same. I know why you're really here, Iana. You're a fucking gold-digger!"

"A gold-digger?!" I demanded. "Excuse you?!"

"You're trying to get a lawyer to take some of my family's money! Admit it!"

I cut myself off then, fully realizing what Liam was accusing me of, and found the rage bubbling just beneath my skin. "But who the fuck do you think you are, Liam, demanding to know if I'm going to take your money? I have no interest in your money; never have, never will. Why the fuck would I want it now?"

He clenched his fists then, almost as if he was attempting to keep his temper with me, but he was struggling in doing so. "Cut the shit, Iana," he growled, and I raised my eyebrows, so unused to this side of him as he jabbed a finger at me then, and I nearly flinched backwards, as the action was so accusatory. "I know that that's mine," he said.

"Jesus Christ," I muttered. "So, that's what this is about?"

"Why didn't you fucking tell me you were pregnant?!" he demanded, and I could almost smell the alcohol on his breath from where I stood. "You know that's not the life I want. I thought that you and I were on the same page…"

"Clearly, you and I haven't been on the same fucking page for a long time now, Liam," I fired back, and he seemed shocked at the vehemence in my voice. "You turned into some needy pussy just a few weeks ago. And for what? Worried that I was fucking other guys? Please. I haven't fucked anyone since we started fucking."

"So, you admit it?" he demanded. "You admit that it's my baby?!"

"It's my fucking baby, Liam!" I yelled. "And no, you're not the fucking father, because I'm too far along to be carrying any child of yours!"

"Too far along?" he asked, all anger gone. "What?"

"That's right," I said, willing the tears not to form behind my eyes. "It's not yours. It's some jackass I went to high school with. The guy I hooked up with on my birthday, who freaked the fuck out as soon as the cops busted the place, and ran out, tail between his legs. Guess it's fitting, isn't it?" I asked him bitterly as I leaned back against my car. "It's fitting that I fucked both of you, considering that you're both fucking pussies. Guess I must have a type. A type of guy I like to fuck, but not one I'd ever settle down with."

"It's…not mine?"

"No, it's not fucking yours," I hissed back. "This is my baby. Mine. Nobody gets this baby except for me. I already sent the father away, which is what I'm doing to you now. Stay the fuck away from me, Liam," I growled, opening the door to my car. "I never want to fucking see you again. Ever." I got into my car then, without a backwards glance, and got the hell out of that parking lot, content never to see that low-life son of a bitch again.

. . .

3 WEEKS LATER

"I know I keep saying it whenever we see each other, Iana, but god fucking damn. You fucking popped!" came Franny's daily gush in the employee locker room that day, when we finished our respective shifts.

I laughed. "Had to happen sometime," I said, running my hands all over my stomach as I gathered my things.

"How much did you get in pity tips today?"

I laughed then, jingling the section of my duffel reserved for them at the end of the day. "Couple hundred, give or take. Perks of being pregnant, I guess…"

Franny laughed. "Yeah. God knows I went through it. Guess it's a right of passage or some shit with this family…"

"So true," I replied, rolling my shoulders as I hitched the duffel out and slung it on. "God, I'm so fucking exhausted…"

"You spending the night at the apartment tonight?"

I shook my head. "No. Pops is coming with me to the appointment today, so he just said I can crash over there. Think I'll be back tomorrow, though. We'll see."

She nodded. "I love that you're staying with both of us, Iana, but soon you'll have to make a choice about permanent living arrangements. Not just for you, but for the baby. Or, shall we say a large banana?" she joked.

"Ugh, do not mention bananas, please!" I yelled, clamping a hand over my mouth and throwing myself up against my locker. "I've always hated the smell and taste, but now that I'm pregnant, it's a million times worse!"

Franny held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, got it." She reached into the top shelf of her locker then and handed over a letter. "This came for you this morning. Why'd you have them send it to the apartment?" she asked.

Immediately, I dropped my duffel and pulled it from her hands, tearing away at the professionally-sealed envelope.

"Uh, you're welcome," Franny said.

"Sorry," I said, quickly looking up at her. "Thank you."

I met her smile of appreciation before I turned my gaze back to the envelope and finished tearing it open. I yanked out the official-looking paperwork on the inside, embossed with the State of Illinois on the top. I skimmed the document, letting me know that my name change had been approved, and that I should go about changing all of my documents in the future, just to make sure the government didn't come running after me.

"Everything okay?"

I nodded, looking up at her. "See for yourself," I replied, handing them over.

"So, this is why you were so secretive?" she asked, looking over the documentation. "You changed your name?"

I nodded. "That's right.'

Franny looked up, handing them back to me, considering. "So… Iana Phillipa Milkovich. It has a nice ring to it."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, my god, shut up," I muttered, a laugh escaping my lips as I put the documents back into the envelope. "My appointment is in half an hour. If I don't leave now, I'll be so late…"

"Go!" Franny urged, pulling me into her arms for a moment. "I'll see you tomorrow. Tell me everything, okay?"

I nodded, holding her for a minute before pulling back. "You know it!" I called over my shoulder before I walked out the employee door. I walked towards my car and got inside, tossing my duffel into the backseat before I pulled out of the parking space and drove down the alley, turned on the street, and made my way down the road towards the freeway.

Pops's text had informed me that he would meet me at the hospital, and I was relieved that I would have someone at my side throughout the appointment. This was the biggest appointment so far, as I was twenty weeks that day, meaning that Dr. Lennox would be able to inform us about the sex of the baby. Even though Pops had tried to hide it over the past few weeks, I knew just how excited he was about the reveal today. I'd been told by Uncle Ian that, due to Aunt Debbie's persuasion, my mother had done a gender reveal party. I just wanted people to know on my own terms, and Franny, even though she was Aunt Debbie's daughter, seemed to respect that in a way that Aunt Debbie never could.

I arrived at the hospital within fifteen minutes and slid out of the car, tucking the documentation under my arm, wanting Pops to see it as soon as possible as I stepped inside. The air conditioning blasted me, even though it was late-September, but it was in the mid-seventies that afternoon. I wasn't complaining; I was constantly overheated these days, and the massiveness in my midsection certainly didn't help. I sighed, rolling my shoulders in an effort to calm myself as I walked towards the elevators to take me to the maternity floor, where I was due to have all my appointments from now on.

The doors dinged and let me inside, and I pressed the fourth floor button, and the box lurched up, taking me with it. I texted Pops, letting him know where I was and that I would be along to join him shortly. The doors came open a few seconds later and I stepped out, making my way to the appropriate waiting room, and grinning automatically when I saw Pops, head in his phone. I smirked to myself then and walked up behind him, placing both my hands over his eyes and drawing back immediately when he flinched, getting to his feet immediately and checking to see who it was.

"Easy, Pops," I said, holding up my hands. "Just me."

Pops dragged a hand over his face. "Christ, Iana. You know you can't do that."

"Sorry, sorry," I said, walking around the row of chairs and coming up close. "Hey. It's all okay, you hear me?" I went on, placing a hand on his shoulder before he pulled me against him. I could feel his heart racing as he tried to calm his breathing, and I did my best to appear soothing towards him. "All right… I need to go and get my paperwork to fill out for the appointment. You going to be okay for a minute?"

"Yeah, yeah," Pops replied, immediately pulling back from me then and forcing a smile onto his face. "I'm over forty, kiddo. I can take care of myself."

I smiled, kissing him on the cheek. "I know you can, Pops," I replied, turning around and walking towards the desk. "Hi. Iana Milkovich. I called you about the name change, and I got the documentation with me."

"We have it right here for you, Miss Milkovich," said the woman with a smile, handing over my paperwork. "Your first?" she asked, nodding to my stomach.

I nodded. "Yeah," I replied.

"Congratulations," she replied.

"Thank you," I said, grinning at her before moving back to sit with Pops. I waited for a moment, just making sure he was watching me from the corner of his eye then as I wrote Iana Milkovich next to my name.

"What are you writing that for?"

I grinned, handing over the legal paperwork Franny had presented me with earlier. "It's all legal, Pops, I promise. I rushed the claim. Judge Whitmore may have helped me out a bit, even though he totally loves my parents, he knows why I wanted this done."

"You changed your name?"

I nodded. "That's right."

Pops was silent for a moment, so after I finished filling out a particular section of the maternity paperwork, I turned over and looked at him. "You took my name?"

"Yeah," I replied, not wanting to upset him. "Look, I know I didn't ask beforehand, but you did give me your signature on that thing… This is what that thing was. It was supposed to be a surprise."

"Oh, I'm surprised."

"Is it okay, though?"

Pops nodded then, swallowing; it was how we buried our emotions. He reached up then and put his arm around me, before yanking me by his side. "I love you, kid. It means a lot to me that you did this."

I smiled. "Glad you think so."

"What'd your mom say?"

I sighed, untangling myself from him and turned towards my paperwork again. "Mom doesn't get a vote in this situation."

"Wait. She doesn't know?"

I shook my head. "No, she doesn't know."

"Christ. What the hell is she going to say?"

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "I can think of a few things…"

. . .

"I can go in by myself."

"Iana, given the charges stacked against you right now, I don't think it's wise for you to go in anywhere by yourself."

I turned and looked at my mother, glaring at her. "What the fuck's that supposed to mean?!" I demanded then, putting my hands on my hips.

My mother sighed, staring at the sky for a moment as we stood in front of this godforsaken limestone building, where we were due to meet my probation officer. "Look, Iana, I'm not only your mother. I'm also your lawyer. And right now, as your lawyer, it's my duty to accompany you to meet your probation officer."

I dragged my hands over my face, willing myself not to cry. "I don't want you to be my lawyer. I want you to be my mother."

She grumbled incoherently under her breath then, obviously growing impatient with me. "Look, honey, I'm not here to argue with you. Let's just go inside and take care of this…"

I shook my head then, pulling out my cell phone and pulling up my favorite search engine. "I get a say in all of this, too, Mom…"

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

I searched up 'best Chicago lawyer' and found a five-star rating on a woman named Caroline Hastings, who looked to be in her mid-thirties. She had single handedly built her own practice from the ground up, one Hastings, Northcott, and Quinton, and while she reportedly asked for five hundred an hour, she was the best of the best. I knew that, somehow, I'd be able to persuade her to take me on as I pressed the phone icon on my screen.

"Iana, what are you…?!"

"Hello, this is Amy, Miss Hastings personal assistant. Who may I ask is calling?"

"My name is Iana Gallagher-Blomqvist."

"Oh! Miss Gallagher-Blomqvist. Miss Hastings has been reading all about your case; all the firm has, really… How can we help you?"

"I would like to have Miss Hastings as my attorney," I replied. "I know it's a long-shot, but I feel it is a conflict of interest to have my own mother as my lawyer…"

"Hold, please," Amy said, and I tapped my foot slightly impatiently, keeping my fingers crossed as my mother glared at me.

"Hello. Am I speaking to Iana Gallagher-Blomqvist?" came the refined-sounding voice of a woman from California.

"That's me. Is this Miss Caroline Hastings?"

"Honey, please. It's Cara. And yes, it is… My assistant Amy informed me that you are looking for an attorney?"

I nodded. "Yeah, that's right. I informed Amy that I believed it to be a conflict of interest to have my mother on my case."

"You're absolutely correct," Cara replied. "According to my good friend Judge Whitmore, you were released ROR and are currently waiting to be seen by your probation officer."

"Sally Carruthers," I explained.

"Ah, yes. I know her office well. I'm just a five-minute drive from there. I'll be over straightaway, my dear; consider yourself my latest client. As for the fee…"

"I have a couple thousand saved up from working," I replied.

"Nonsense; you need to save that for college," she said quickly. "Although, I know you're going to get an academic scholarship with your grades. But books don't come cheap…"

I laughed. "No. No, they do not."

"Well, I'm coming over now, Iana," she told me, and I know my mother heard her, for she was silently seething from close by. "Don't you worry about a thing. We are going to get this sorted and quickly."

I smiled. "Thank you, Cara."

"No problem," she replied. "It's what I do."

. . .

"Iana."

I looked over at Pops then, halfway noticing that I'd managed to fill out the rest of the paperwork on automatic pilot. "Sorry," I replied.

"What's wrong?"

I sighed, setting down my pen and rubbing my forehead. "Sorry…"

"Hey, don't be sorry," he said, putting his arm around my shoulders again. "What's been going on with you lately?"

"Lotta shit," I muttered.

"Yeah?"

I swallowed then, leaning back into his arm. "I'm not really…sleeping much…"

"Baby Milkovich keeping you up at night?"

I scoffed slightly then, before I shook my head. "Yeah, now and again. They like to sit right on my bladder; hurts like hell."

"Sorry to hear that."

I shrugged. "But it's more than that…"

"More?"

"Yeah. Nightmares."

"You're having nightmares again?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"About what? About your mom leaving you and the boys with Ian when she was doing whatever she was doing with Tommy?"

I shook my head. "No. The trial…"

"About Colin?"

"Yeah. About him."

"Sorry. I know you don't like it when people say his name."

I sighed. "Gotta get used to it, don't I? I mean, if the police on the night of my birthday hadn't been fucking bought off… Who knows? My damned probation could've been down the toilet like a shit ton of other things…"

"Kiddo, you know that you're not on probation. Based on the amazing work of the court-appointed therapist, you were diagnosed as bipolar. And the poor opposing side's got nothing on you."

"It fucking feels like it," I muttered. "Why you think I hate cops so much?"

"Because Tommy's a son of a bitch."

"Yeah, that's part of it," I said quietly.

"You're just lucky you didn't beat him to death…"

I sighed. "Not like I didn't want to…"

The door opened from across the room then and Dr. Lennox stepped out, a bright smile on her face as she saw us. "Iana. Mickey. Come on back," she said.

I got to my feet with Pops then, who handed me back my paperwork, which I folded up and put into my purse. I handed over the medical paperwork to Dr. Lennox, who made small-talk with the two of us as we made our way towards an exam room. I spotted the ultrasound machine immediately upon walking in, and handed over my purse to Pops, who set it down on a chair and watched as I hopped up onto the exam table.

"Big day, twenty-weeks," Dr. Lennox said, her infectious smile rubbing off on me and Pops as she called up the system. "You feeling okay, Iana?"

"Just having to go to the bathroom a lot more," I said with a shrug.

"Very typical," Dr. Lennox assured me. "But the morning sickness has stopped?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Sometimes if I eat something bad, I puke, but I think that's the case for people who aren't even pregnant."

"That's true," she said, keying into the system and motioning to Pops where it would appropriate for him to stand. "Okay," she said, getting some of the gel and fixing up the wand with some plastic wrap. She then put the wand into the gel and positioned it onto my stomach, which I'd quickly managed to expose to her. "Ah! Here we go," she said, as the tell-tale whooshing sound filled the room.

"The heartbeat," I whispered, feeling overwhelmed with a jolt of happiness as I reached for Pop's hand. "Wow… Still can't get over how amazing that sounds."

"You have a strong baby growing inside you, Iana," Dr. Lennox told me with a smile. "And you wanted to know the sex, is that correct?"

I nodded immediately; this I had to know. "Yeah, Dr. Lennox. I want to know the sex," I replied, hoping that my voice wasn't shaking too much.

"Okay," she replied, adjusting want for a moment, the smile widening a little on her face. "Well, Iana, looks like you're going to have a baby girl sometime in late-February, early March. How does that sound?"

"A girl," I whispered, shaking my head. Everyone around me had tried to, and almost did, convince me that it was a boy. But they were wrong; it was a girl. I was having a girl, and I found my smile was broadening by the second as I just stared at the monitor. "Hi, Baby Girl," I said, feeling a little silly as I said it, reaching out towards her. "It's your mama. I love you so much," I went on, the tears nearly blinding me then, but I knew that, even though things seemed to be so uncertain, especially right now, that we were both in this together, and with that in mind, we were both going to be okay.