Author's note: I need to give the BIGGEST shout out in the world to S. Snowflake for helping me with this chapter and keeping me sane through all this. Couldn't have done it without you.

Chapter Four:

September 22 1940

She didn't want to go home. She didn't know where she wanted to be but she didn't want to go home. Kicking her feet slightly, Alana started down the Skid Row sidewalk. Her stomach growled and her child moved impatiently. She patted her stomach thoughtfully.

I know sweetheart, me too.

Alana was fairly pretty, though nothing striking. She had a round face and pale blue eyes which nearly appeared grey. Her nose was rather large and would've seemed odd and out of place on any other face but suited her quite beautifully. Her hair was brown, just slightly above shoulder length and fell in natural curls without the need for pins or rollers. She liked very little about herself, but she didn't mind her curly hair.

She herself was an orphan of sorts. Her mother had run off with another man when she was just a child. All her life she hated that good for nothing deadbeat. She had promised herself she'd be a better mother than that woman ever was. Her father was the only thing which filled the void of loneliness in her life. He raised her by himself. It was a struggle to keep food in her mouth but he kept at it, determination and love never wavering. It was something she would always be thankful for. When she was 17 an illness finally took him from her. She knew she had to make her own living now but being a young single woman of the time she only had so many options. Desperate and near starving she applied for a job at "The Gutter" on her 18th birthday. She needed more means to survive though. That's where she began to accompany men. One of whom was Erik. He took a liking to her right away. At first it was just business transactions but then he started to shmooze. A few fancy dinners and a couple nice gifts was all it took and she was exclusively his. This affair lasted some time. Erik every so often would show his true colors and she would receive a bruise or two. Slowly it became harder to ignore and the excuse that she was just clumsy became less believable. She couldn't move on though. Who was she to judge? She knew he was married and that he wasn't the man of her dreams before she even got involved. If anything it was her own fault. She was a Skid Row orphan with a past, and couldn't wish for any better. She was trash, and she deserved to be treated as such. It was shortly after he had broken her wrist with a pair of handcuffs he lost interest and started showing up at her apartment less and less until not at all, and she was grateful. She wanted to run at that point. And run she would have, but that's when she found out she was expecting a baby. At first she kicked herself for being so stupid but came to love the little thing nudging inside her. She never really had a family since her father died. And now she had the chance. She had someone with her. She felt love, something she hadn't in a long time. She loved that child with all her heart, no matter who's it was.

Sighing she passed by the Skid Row Home for Boys. She passed it often on her commute and sometimes couldn't stand the sight of it. She ran one hand along the chain link fence and rested the other on her belly. The building wasn't anything special. The only significance it shared was the metal sign on the fence stating:

Skid Row Home for Boys

Est…

The rest was scratched off and painted over with crude graffiti. She wondered if it was someone on the outside or one of the boys who did that. There weren't any outside right now. It was the first chilly day of the season and they were probably all inside. All summer she had passed by and there would be boys playing in the yard. It wasn't much of a yard so to speak, but a couple of meters of concrete and grass between the building and the fence. She had very mixed feelings whenever she passed. Today she kept one hand firm on her belly as if the Home would swoop in and swallow her child.

Don't worry sweetheart. You're safe with me.

She kept walking and made it to her apartment a block away only to pass right by it. It was chilly outside but she wasn't ready to go in. There was nothing up there but loneliness and lingering dread. Suddenly she knew exactly where she wanted to be and started off in the opposite direction.

Plants. Alana had a soft side for plants. There weren't any good florists in Skid Row as of late, but she knew of a place in the wholesale flower district that she wanted to be. Several blocks later there it was, just under a blue and white striped awning. "Chang's" was written in black letters. There was a table just out front containing the strangest varieties, per the norm. Normally she loved the strange ones but today they made her slightly uneasy. She'd had nightmares lately. Some she couldn't explain or even remember much longer after waking up. Something about a plant swallowing her child. She shook her head. It was silly. What she really came for today was the flowers. They always made her feel better. A blush of pink among the green caught her eye and she was drawn to it. She ran her finger along the bouquet petals and smiled. Carnations. She loved carnations. They were so simple yet so beautiful, and by far her favorite flower. They weren't anything special like roses or lilies, and were often thrown into a bouquet only to be overshadowed by the other flowers. But still, she loved them. She imagined she'd grow them herself if she ever was lucky enough to have a house with a yard. Maybe in a window box outside the kitchen window. Something she could water while watching her child run and grow out in the yard. Far far from urban Skid Row. She sighed. Such a lovely dream.

"How much?" she asked the Asian man attending the stall.

"$0.25"

She turned her gaze back to the flowers and chewed on her lip. She knew she shouldn't. Even now her stomach was rumbling. But it was such a small price for a dream.

"Are you a mother?"

She looked up from the flowers to see the man surveying her with a warm smile.

"I'm… I'm sorry?"

He motioned his index finger at her swollen abdomen. Suddenly feeling slightly embarrassed she pulled her coat close.

"No… well yes. Technically. Soon I…" she stopped, catching herself babbling, and blushed.

"Carnations are special for mothers."

Her eyes lit with interest then she furrowed her brow, skeptic.

"Why is that?"

"Their color."

"Color?"

He nodded and moved toward her, "Yes. Their colors signify different traits. White is for luck…"

She smiled, so not for me.

"Red is for romantic love…"

Wrong again.

He paused glancing down at the flowers still in Alana's grasp.

"And pink?" she asked.

His smile grew, "a mother's love."

Immediately she reached into her coat pocket to fish for coins.

"No. Ma'am, just take them."

She paused, but just for a moment before she pulled her fist out of her pocket.

"I couldn't do that. Here," she said extending her handful of pennies.

He closed her palm and pushed her hand back.

"They're a gift."

"But… but why?"

"I've seen you here before. You like plants."

She glanced down at her handful of change but he took a step away before she could attempt to pay again.

"Thank… thank you sir."

She turned her back keeping her eyes fixed on her bouquet. She wasn't used to this sort of kindness. A smile spread wide across her face.