Chapter 1

November 18, 2000

Stella looked at the files lying on Mac's desk; she knew that those were the cases that were plaguing him, haunting him with their ever present reminder that they remained unsolved. She picked them up and flipped through each of them, there were four that were the usual, murder without enough evidence to convict the suspect. The last one was different, it was curiously strange, and it was that of a missing child.

"Mac, why do you have a missing person's case on your desk?"

Mac sighed deeply, he didn't really want to tell someone else about it, but he couldn't really keep this from Stella. He knew that if he refused to tell her, she would ask Claire and that was something that he did not want to happen.

"16 years ago, Claire was kidnapped… she was raped and forced to give birth to a child… a little girl, before she was released. I've spent most of the time that I can on finding her because there's a possibility that the child is mine."

"What would you do if you find her and she's not your daughter?"

Mac bit his lip as he thought, "Nothing will change, she's still missing and she's still Claire's daughter."

"How are we going to find her?"

Mac chuckled wryly, "We?"

"I'm not going to let you do this by yourself."

"She's 16 now. We don't know what she looks like, let alone if she's alive."

"Sounds like you don't want find her…" she teased, "Don't make me tell Claire about this change of heart."

Mac rolled his eyes and chuckled, "I do want to find her, and I'm only stating the facts."

"Sure…" she said skeptically before lying the files back down on his desk and walking away.

XXXXXX

She rubbed her eyes as she woke up on the park bench. With a yawn and a stretch, she got up and started to walk aimlessly around the streets of New York. It's been two months since she ran from the abusive house in California. She ran to be free from that oppressive and destructive lifestyle but found that life was just as oppressive and destructive as her father. She laughed when the thought came into her mind… he wasn't her father, but she didn't know what other word to call him. She hated him, but she could never kill anyone, no matter what he did to her.

XXXXXX

September 11, 2001

She stood on top of the roof of a high building, looking down at the people walking on the streets. She breathed deeply as the wind rushed through her hair and cooled her skin. She was going to jump; she was going to end her constant torment by killing herself, when an aircraft flying low in the air caught her attention. The minute it crashed into one of the towers, she raced down the stairs and through the streets in the direction of the towers. She burst through the doors and headed for the stairs when a wail made her stop. She headed for the sound and saw children of all ages and no adult in sight. She took the donut rings grabbed some yarn and tied the rings around her midsection. Once she made sure each child had a donut, she picked up the two infants and lead them out of the building and into safety, before the tower collapsed. She located the doctors and stayed with them to assist others and help reunite the children with their parents.

XXXXXX

Mac searched through the crowd with a lump in his throat. He could feel the hot burning tears, searing its way out of his eyes to roll down onto his cheeks. Stella looked through the crowd with him, but so far, they haven't seen Claire… After the survivors were attended to, and there was still no sign of Claire, Stella wrapped Mac in an embrace and held him as he sobbed onto her shoulder.

XXXXXX

Two weeks later

Most of the children were happily reunited… all except one; a small little girl, with dazzling blue eyes and soft blond curls, who was about a year old. She had somehow attached herself emotionally onto her, she refused to be carried by any other person and she couldn't really find the strength to leave the small child alone. They were both orphans, children of tragedies, and she vowed to fill her little life with joy from here on out.

"Well, you might as well adopt her, since no one is going to claim her…" spoke the nurse that helped her feed the child.

"Yeah," she nodded, "I will…"

"What are you going to name her?"

She looked at the bundle of warmth in her arms, before saying, "Angelica."

The nurse looked at Angelica and smiled, "seems befitting," she smiled.

"In more ways than one," she stood with Angelica in her arms, "It's time for me to go…"

"Goodbye, Emily…" the nurse waved as she walked away.

She almost gagged at the name, she hated it, hated having to change it because she didn't have a name, not legally, anyway. She looked back at Angelica in her arms, and smiled at her… as long as she had Angelica, she wasn't going to kill herself. She couldn't leave her alone in the world, like her birth parents have done. She was going to try to make the world a better place for Angelica and other innocent children who, like her, are caught up in tragedies of their own.

XXXXXX

Stella found Mac lying on the floor in his apartment, everything breakable, broken, clothes tattered and ripped, and everything in a complete and utter mess. She kneeled down in front of him and lifted his chin to make him look at her.

"Why, Mac?" Stella asked him softly, "What did this solve? What did it prove?"

Mac turned his head sharply, tears falling down his cheeks, not really wanting to deal with anyone as of yet. Stella grabbed his arm and forced him up on his feet.

"Stella, please, just go… just leave me alone…" He finally spoke, yanking free his arm from her grip.

Stella almost fell face first because of his abrupt motion. "Mac," she told him seriously, "I'm not going to leave you alone, you need help, and since you won't talk to a psychiatrist, I'll be your help."

"I'm fine," he growled at her, gripping his teeth together as his emotions overtook him again and tears started to fall.

Stella crossed her arms, not daring to show him the pain his words caused her of his determination to block her out, not willing to let him see that she, too, was grieving Claire's death. "You're not, and the sooner you admit you need help, the sooner you can come back to work." She told him as she walked towards the door.

Mac watched as she left, searing hot tears clustered in his eyes, and a massive lump formed in his throat, choking him as he struggled to keep his demeanor tough. The minute she locked the door behind her, he collapsed on the floor clutching the opera tickets in his hand as his mind returned to that morning of her death. He was about to rip them when something stopped him. His daughter, their missing daughter, and he vowed then and there that he was going to do everything in his power to find her, because she was the last living link he was ever going to have of Claire. He stood up with new determination and started to clean his apartment.

Stella got to her car when her emotions overtook her. She feared she was losing another one of her best friends and she just wanted to curl up in a fetal position and just fade into nothingness. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't, because she knew that that wasn't going to solve anything, and she was also hoping that Mac would accept her help because she knew Claire and she knew what it was like to lose someone they loved. What broke her heart was that he pushed her away and rejected her offer to help. Before she inserted the key in the ignition and starting the engine, she glanced at Mac's window and smiled when she saw him starting to clean up the mess he made. She smiled at the thought that her words did get through and she helped him, even if it was just to motivate him to continue. She drove away, wiping her tears and breathing deeply. She had her friend back and that's all that mattered to her at that instant. When she was wiping her tears, however, she couldn't see the car that drove into the driver's side, knocking her unconscious and pinning her inside.