A/N.: Well I know I don't use to publish more than one at once, but things can change. I really would like to know what you think of this.

Disclaimer: I still don't any rights regarded to the OC

1. Prologue

I never had thought that a phone call from my mother could change my life and that of my wife and son for ever. It had been late at night, when she had called us. My son had disappeared in his room and my wife and I were cleaning up the remains of another Newport-Party. Since I'm living here my relationship to my Mum is…ice cold. I'm still a public defender. I set my heart on it. This job fulfils me with the feeling that I still can effectuate something – bring a change into this society. But marrying this rich woman – daughter of the owner of the Newportgroup – had been betrayal in her point of view. I have lost my ideals that's what she had said, when I left the Bronx and went to Berkeley in California. It got worse when I moved with my wife and son to Newport – the area of the rich and superficial. Since then we don't talk a lot. Sometimes she comes by for a visit. She wants to see her grandson and deep down I know she loves him. But it's not the right surrounding, the right wife. In her point of view too much money and people having it has something criminal. She doesn't believe that money doesn't make all people selfish and cash-hungry. My wife was the best prove for it. The only right thing is my job, which I easily could do in the Bronx, where the kids really needed someone like me. If she knew how despaired kids in California could be too. In my opinion it doesn't matter from where these kids come from. Abuse is abuse and the fact that it happened in California doesn't make it any better. The phone is ringing. Then I had no idea of who it could have been. All people who could have wanted to talk to us had been at this party.

"Sandy, can you?" My wife asked. I nodded and grabbed the phone.

"Sandy Cohen?" I asked.

"Sandy? Here's Sophie, your Mum." A shock had run through my spine. My Mum never called – or yes she did, but she had her habits when to call and this hadn't matched into one of her habits. This only could mean something was wrong.

"Mum? What's wrong? Everything alright with you?" I immediately asked. My wife must have heard the word 'Mum'. She turned around and looked questioning at me. Her face turned concerned, although my Mum didn't like her, my wife would leave things as they were and come with me if something would happen to her.

"Sandy, with me is everything okay, but it's serious." She told me. Relieve spreads through my body like a drug. My Mum is okay, that was the most important. But what was wrong then.

"Good to hear, but…not that I won't appreciate it if you'd call more often, but what's wrong?" I asked on. There was a silence. My wife came to me, putting a hand one my shoulder – comfortingly.

"I…I have a boy…he needs your help. Sandy you're the only one I know who can help him. Sanford it's really serious. If you can't help him nobody can…" My Mum started to explain. I didn't understand what she meant – or what she had been talking about. But I would next day. I only didn't know it then and I didn't know then her definition of serious. But if she used my first name – besides I hate it – it had to be serious for her.

"Mum, you need to explain me what had happened."

"I…can't. Not over the phone. Sandy you need to come here, have a look at these files and …at the boy. Sandy, I beg you to come here and help the boy." My Mum, who used to be calm in every situation, now sounded hysteric. I still can't imagine that my Mum had been that concerned about a person, like about this boy. She not even had been that concerned about us – her children – but the reasons for that were different and I know it.

"Mum, I can't drop my job and come…" I try to explain her. The earliest date could be next week that's what my calendar says.

"It could be too late then…Sanford, we're talking about life or death and I'm not exaggerating. You know that." That had been true. My Mum never would make jokes about things like that.

"Okay, I take the first plane I can catch." I told her, trying to sooth her.

"You're a good boy." She had said and then the call had been over. I looked at my wife.

The phone call had seemed hectic and in my husbands eyes could see there was serious trouble coming up

"This was my Mum." He told me. His voice was shaky.

"And is everything okay?" I asked him. Their relationship never had been the best. But I know how much he loves his Mum and I know how much she loves him. Today I know she had called him, because he had been the only one she trusted in this. Today I know she was more than proud of him. Today I know she doesn't hate me. She's just a jealous Mum who is afraid to lose her son.

"With her yes…but she…was a little cryptic…told me something about a boy who needs my help and…that it was about life and death." He answered. Then I saw, this was no joke. Life and death were no joke topics for his Mum, despite I can't imagine her making any jokes.

"And?" I asked, but I knew his decision. I had listened to the phone call and I could see it in his eyes.

"I have to go to New York tomorrow. I'm sorry, but I never could forgive myself if this was really serious and…"

"I know and I respect your decision." I told him. If I had respected it, when I had known what was coming up to us? I don't know. It had been the beginning of the hardest time, we ever had. On the other hand we had won so much – the most valuable thing in life. I don't regret any decision we had made in this time. I only wish I had been prepared.

"I love you." He took me into a tough embrace. I didn't know then how strong the bond of our love was. Otherwise, we never had made it through this episode of life. Our love had grown with this and it already had been strong. But nevertheless thinking about that time still was hurtful.

I look at my husband.

"It was the right decision." He says.

"I know."