A/n: I am so sorry to you all that I am such an unreliable and picky writer! But this version is making me much happier now, so I hope it makes you guys happy as well! And fair warning: some of the scenes/paragraphs/events will be the same as the version I written first, but there is a lot of added content so make sure to not skip it because every word I write, I write carefully and choose wisely - each word is very important to the story. There's a big secret that lies waiting for you readers (although you may guess, I don't believe the entirety of what's really happening in this story will be revealed any time soon).

Let me know if any errors or if you want to see something different or something happen, etc. I am open to all ideas and comments and reviews!

Each and every one is amazing! Thanks for all you guys who read! And thank you to Team Wingless, Sunshinelover21, Blue Angel 78, Sorrowful Hope, AgnesEldridge, nattiebopeep1, somethinginside3333, Nequam95, and all the Guests who reviewed. It means the world to me!

Also, I am aware Han didn't have the Millennium Falcon after ROTJ, but I am rewriting that part and he lost it sometime between the beginning of Ben Solo's training and Force Awakens timeline.

Wild, Caged, and Free

Prologue: Alone

Twenty years earlier…..

The small child watched her mother frantically move from one room to another, gathering a great many things. Everything she grabbed, she smashed into a suitcase; things were being tossed and thrown, and the child was looking at the case thinking that there was no way it would be able to latch and close properly.

Father pounded up the stairs again after pacing back and forth in the living. Most of the morning he gave her space to mourn whatever she was upset about. However, that only gave her mother time to decide to pack up all her belongings.

"You can't go, Becka. If you find her, she will be exposed." It was unusual for Bridgette to see her father so panicky. He was the rock of the family—the wall protecting Bridgette and her mother. Now, he was a timid mess, terrified of her mother going and exposing whatever he claimed she would be exposing.

Becka paused for a moment at his words, staring distantly at the overflowing suitcase.

Her mother started to sob violently into her hands. Bridgette frowned, walking up to her mom and tugged at her patchy dress. "Everything is alright, Mommy. You don't need to cry."

Mother looked down at the child. Her expression could only be read as thoughtful and longing. Bridgette wanted to ask what she was thinking about. Before she could, her mother shook her head. "No. I must go. Let go, child. Get off. George, I refuse to stay here with this child any longer. I cannot. It breaks my heart every time - " The woman stopped, hissing. "I can't even looked at Bridgette's face without thinking about her. I have to make sure she is alright. I have to go, George. Quite frankly, I don't plan on coming back. Don't bother convincing me otherwise."

"No, Momma! Don't go!" the child cried out, clutching the woman again.

"Get off me, Bridgette!" she shouted, give her leg a hard shake.

The child let go. Although she knew she could have held on tightly for much longer and much more intense shakes, Bridgette released, feeling something inside her quiver and break. The tears came in rivers now, but both parents shrugged the child off.

"You might end up making things worse, Becka! Please listen to me," Father begged. He let go of her reluctantly, too so she went back to closing the trunk and making way for the front door.

"I can't leave her alone anymore. We were wrong. We should have fought this together instead of abandoning our daughter."

One foot was out the door.

"You know we can't run. You can't run from him, Becka. No one can. If you leave, it will expose us all and we will all be killed. Please, trust me on this that you need to stay. It's safer with you here. Trust me."

It was those two words that made her mother turn around, giving a glare so full of fire that her face began to burn. "I trust no one. Especially you."

The shot at her father wounded him, the child could tell. Yet if there were any tears in his eyes, he didn't let Bridgette see them. Instead, Father turned around and walked upstairs, shutting the bedroom door behind him quietly having left the child to cry all her tears alone on the floor.

Now she was the one who had been abandoned.