26 weeks and 3 days. That's how long it had been since she'd seen him, since she'd felt his touch, since she'd heard the low, gentle rumble of his voice that always made her feel so safe and loved. "You've never heard his voice," she whispered, as she ran her hand over her belly. "He would be so crazy about you - even now, even without ever seeing you or holding you. You would be his whole world."

She didn't know for certain when she'd conceived, but the doctor's estimations were usually close. She couldn't have been more than a few weeks pregnant when she'd left and she'd had no idea, no idea until much later, until after Edmund had found them. He'd kept them in a warehouse in the middle of nowhere for weeks until she'd become so sick and weak that she'd barely been able to maintain consciousness. There were moments she'd been certain he was simply going to let them die and that might have been his initial plan. But everything changed after he finally had to relent and call a doctor. From the moment the results of the tests had been read, everything had changed. An entirely new nightmare had begun.

Jeffrey had done everything he could to try and help her escape and the guilt she still carried because of his death never left her thoughts. It was all up to her now. She couldn't stay here, couldn't allow her child to be raised with a man like Edmund Winslow.

"I'm going to fix this," she promised quietly. "I'm going to get both of us out of here. One way or another, we are going back home."

She eyed the kettle on the small stove. Edmund had given her more grace in recent days having seen her discomfort with an ever present backache and the pressure of the extra weight on her small frame. As she pushed herself to her feet, she felt her stomach tighten. "A little longer, sweet one," she soothed. "You've got to stay put just a little longer. We need to give Daddy a little more time to find us. He will. He'll find us. He has to."

The water cascaded over the tea bag and as she watched the color change from crystal clear to light amber. This place was no palace to be sure, but at least there were some comforts. She had a shower and a comfortable bed, there was ample heat and air, and Edmund always kept the kitchen stocked. It was the silence that nearly drove her crazy. There was no television, and definitely no means of getting online. Her days were filled with thinking and dreaming and wishing. She created a whole different world in her mind, a world where she had told Shayne the truth the moment it had happened, a world where he'd understood just as he'd promised he would, a world where he'd protected her and where this pregnancy had been a celebration for both of their families.

And then eventually, Edmund would return and remind her of the stark reality of her situation. She hadn't told Shayne the truth. By the time he found out, there was nothing he could do to protect her and she'd been forced to protect herself the only way she knew how - by doing what she knew how to do - by running.

She took a small sip of the tea, finding it now lukewarm. With a sigh, she stood and walked over to the microwave. She saw the charging cord that dangled from the outlet and felt the wheels slowly begin to turn. The time to think may not have been such a bad thing after all.


"Hello Dinah!" Edmund's sing song voice echoed through the virtually empty living area. "You're going to really love what I have here for you. I went to see an agent today and I talked to her about some of our specific, special requirements for our relocation and she gave me quite a few brochures here for us to look at." He laughed a bit as he held them up and let his eyes roam the glossy, colored photos. "Can you believe they still make these? I actually find it a bit of a nice nostalgia. Even when we pick a place, I think I'll save them. We can show Lauren how things used to be before everything went online, right?"

He stepped closer to the sofa, his brow furrowing in some concern as he noted he hadn't received any response. "Dinah," he said again, "I know it's not your ideal situation, but as I've said if you just …"

"Edmund," she whispered, finally turning towards him so that he could see her pained expression. "Not now, okay?" She could see it immediately - the change in him, the switch from controlling to compassion, from curt to concern.

"What's the matter? Is it the baby?"

"It's just my back," she groaned. "It's been really bad today."

His face was still serious as sat close to her. "Maybe we should call the doctor. This has been going on for a few days now."

"I don't want to go back to the hospital," she whispered. "Maybe you could just get the heating pad?"

"Sure. Yeah, I can do that." She was careful to barely move as she lifted her head just enough to watch him walk over into the kitchen and retrieve the heating pad. He paused only for a moment to connect his phone before returning to her, snaking the cord around the sofa, and carefully positioning it behind her.

"Thank you," she breathed. Her hand rested on her stomach as she watched his eyes carefully roam over her. She'd been hesitant to do this, afraid that, after everything she'd dealt with in the past, that she might be tempting fate, but she also knew the quickest way to throw Edmund off his game was to go for the only thing that could ever get to his humanity. Edmund Winslow was evil in many ways, but he wanted this child and he'd do whatever it took to have her.


She could hear him move in the bedroom as she stood by the window and looked out into the virtual forest that stretched in front of them. It had been nothing short of a miracle that anyone had ever passed through here and there had been moments over the past week where she'd questioned if she had dreamed the hunter into existence and perhaps no postcard had ever been sent or requested at all.

Hearing yet another noise, she gathered her confidence and touched the phone screen. It remained black. She breathed out in relief and quickly moved back to the sofa. Her hand trembled a bit as she slowly rubbed a soft circle over her perfectly rounded belly. "This is just pretend," she whispered. "You remember that, okay? We have to do this so that we can get out of here, but don't go getting any ideas."

Closing her eyes, she whispered a silent prayer to anyone that might be listening, drew in a breath, and called out, "Edmund."

The footsteps were almost instantaneous and she could see the shadow dart across the floor. "What?" he said, the tone almost bordering on panic. "What's the matter?"

She bit down hard on the inside of her lip as she looked up at him, tears welling in her eyes as she gripped her stomach. "Something's wrong," she managed, her voice trembling with very real fear as she waited for his response. "I don't know what it is, but something's not right. I've never felt anything like this except …"

"Except what?" He was on his knees in front of her, his hands resting on her thighs as he tried to soothe her as best he could. "What? Dinah? What do you need me to do?"

"With my first baby … When I … When she …"

His face went pale and she saw the horror flash in his eyes. "We need to get you to a hospital." He reached for her hand and tried to help her stand.

She screamed in agony. "I can't, Edmund. I can't move. Please. Please just call for help. Please, Edmund." The look on his face told her he wouldn't deny her request and she watched with an ever growing knot of anxiety in her throat as she watched him rush towards his phone. His fingertips jabbed at the still dark screen.

"What's wrong … What's wrong with this … It's … It's dead!" He slammed the phone onto the counter so hard it made her jump and he instantly returned to her side, the apology already falling from his lips. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I'll … I'll go get help, okay? I'll go get a doctor and I'll be back okay? I promise. I'll be back. You stay here."

She nodded, her lips pursed as she pretended the pain was simply too much to speak through. As he moved through the room in a whirlwind she kept her eyes closed tight, afraid if she didn't, he might see her true intentions.

"I'll be back, okay. You just hold on. I'll be back."

The sound of the door slamming shut gave her only a momentary reprieve and she let her eyes fly open and move towards the counter. The phone sat there, unattended and she quickly moved to her feet. She grabbed the charger and switched to the nearby outlet, mumbling a quick thank you as she saw the phone's screen come to life.

"Answer Shayne," she whispered. "Please God, just let him answer."


Shayne crushed the small paper cup in his hand as he looked out over the water. It matched the picture on the postcard almost perfectly, but beyond that, he had nothing. No clues, no ideas, no actual proof that Dinah had contacted him or been here at all. He'd gone to every hotel he could find and shown her photo. He'd visited the hospitals, asking if anyone had been brought in that might fit her description and still he'd come up with nothing. His parents called him daily, asking him, a little less gently each time, if maybe it might be time to admit that this had all been a hope-filled fantasy, that maybe it was time to accept reality.

Reality. The word made him sick. What kind of reality was this? Was he supposed to believe that he'd imagined the phone call? That he'd dreamed up her voice? That the postcard he held in his hand had simply appeared as the result of some sick prank or worse still, that he'd somehow engineered it as a result of some psychotic fugue state? He couldn't believe that. His brain couldn't handle it.

The sound of his phone filled him dread and his thumb hovered over the decline button, but something stopped him. This wasn't a number he recognized. He brought the phone to his ear, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"Hello?"

"Shayne." Everything she'd been feeling for all these months suddenly culminated in this moment. "Oh god, Shayne," she breathed. "I …" Her breath caught and she felt a sharp wave of pain.

"Dinah?" He looked around, as if suddenly she might appear to him. He needed someone, another living being to be here, to hear this, to know that this was true. She was speaking to him. She wasn't some figment of his imagination. "Dinah, where are you?"

"I .. I'm …" The wet trickle of warmth that slowly made its way down her legs was a sobering sign that she couldn't deny. This was no longer a ploy and she needed the man on the other end of the line in a way she never had before. "I need help, Shayne … Please help me."

His heart hammered in his chest. "I will. Just tell me where you are. I got the card. The postcard and I'm here, okay? I'm in Germany. I'm at the lake, but I don't know where … where are you Dinah?"

"I don't know … He doesn't ..the church…" She could feel the pressure building to a point she could no longer stand and she let her legs relax as she slid to the floor. "Please Shayne …Vitus" She managed to speak the only word she knew that might possibly point him in the right direction. She'd been able to hear the church bells in the distance and she remembered the visit from one of the parishioners that nearly sent Edmund over the edge. As she tried to give him more, she felt her vision blur and the room tilted. "I need you here. Please …"

"Dinah!" He was screaming her name now and he no longer cared who might hear. The sound of her jagged breathing was no longer there and she wasn't responding to his calls. "Vitus," he yelled to a passerby. "Vitus?" He'd never felt quite as desperate as he did in that moment.

"Vitus?" he nearly wailed again as he reached for the arm of a young woman who slowed to look into his tortured face.

"Church?" she managed.

"Vitus is a church?" He felt a small glimmer of hope as he looked around. "Where? Where is the church?"

The woman pointed towards the East. "Close," she said haltingly. "That way."

"Thank you," he breathed. He took off at full tilt, running as fast as he could towards the church he prayed would appear. She'd asked him for help. She'd pleaded with him to find her. He'd already failed her once. He'd be damned if he'd fail her again.


She felt another wave of pain move through her and she struggled to open her eyes. Her hands trembled as she tried to bring them to her face. The phone was dark again, the charger now pulled from the wall as she sat on the floor.

"No, no, no," she pleaded. Her hand gripped her belly as she felt the skin tighten again and again. "It's not time," she whispered. "You're supposed to stay there. This can't happen yet. You can't come yet. You're too …." She blew her breath out as slowly as she could, trying to remember the things she'd learned in years past. "It's going to be okay," she said softly. "Everything's going to be okay."


Shayne followed the sound of the pealing church bells, his heart still beating hard. His eyes fell on a young woman standing near the open door. "English?" he said, his eyes as hopeful as his tone, "Do you speak English?"

"Yes," she said, her face instantly reflecting kindness. "I speak English." She held her hand out towards him. "My name is Klara. Can I help you?"

HIs hand was already punching away at his phone. "I'm looking for this woman. Have you seen her? Her hair might be different or … I think she might be traveling with a man or …"

"I …" She brought the phone closer to her face. "I haven't, but one of our parishioners does visits close by. Let me ask her if she knows. She's just inside. Come in please."

He followed her quick steps into the room. The decor was simple but beautiful. A smattering of people sat spaced in the pews, no doubt asking God for their own miracles. Another woman soon appeared and Shayne fought to keep himself from rushing them as he watched the two women converse.

Bits and pieces of their conversation floated through the air, but all of it was in German and most of it was completely foreign. He saw Klara's brow furrow in confusion and curiosity became more than he could stand.

"What?" he asked. "What did she say? Does she know where she is? Has she seen her? Listen, I think maybe she might be in some trouble? I think she might need help, so if you know where she is, it's really really important that I find her quickly. Can you please tell me what you know."

"Schwanger?" the older woman said. "Sie ist schwanger?"

Shayne shook his head. "I don't … what?"

Klara spoke. "Pregnant," she translated quickly. Anja says she's pregnant.

His entire body felt numb as he stared at the two women in front of him. There were so many questions he needed to ask, so many things that needed answers, but now wasn't the time. "Do …" He swallowed past the emotion, past the guilt, and the pain, and the fear. "Do you know where she is?"

Klara nodded and headed for the door. "Follow me."


"Please … Please … Please …" She cried out to someone, though she wasn't entirely sure who. She had prayed for each of her babies and still not been able to bring them home. She had pleaded with God to let this time be different and yet she was here, alone, with no one to help her. At this point, she would have even chosen Edmund to be beside her. At the very least, she believed he wanted the baby to be safe. Her child would have had a chance with him, but now …

Wave after wave of pain seemed to only get more unbearable and the pressure seemed to move through her abdomen under her ribs as she fought to draw in a deep breath. Her head throbbed with a headache so intense that her vision still blurred and she gripped the leg of the chair by the table hard. The sound of the door opening was almost not perceptible as she struggled to maintain consciousness.

"Edm .." Her head dropped, the pain overwhelming her already weak body.

"Dinah." He dropped to his knees, sliding across the floor as he reached for her. The joy and relief that should have been felt upon seeing her face were on indefinite hold as he saw her pale complexion and heard her labored breathing. "Dinah, baby … I'm here. It's me. I'm here. It's going to be okay. I found you. You're okay."

He looked back at Klara who was already speaking in hushed German to the woman behind her. "We're calling for help," she said quickly. "They'll be here soon."

The sound of sirens echoing throughout the air almost coincided with her words and Shayne couldn't help but wonder if these women truly did have some connection with a higher power.

"Dinah." He touched her face again, desperate for her to acknowledge his presence. "Dinah, baby, please. Look at me, okay? Just open your eyes and look at me. I'm right here. It's going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay."

He heard the sounds of footsteps and chaos as the paramedic team entered the room. Words, all of which were foreign to him were bandied about as uniformed workers swooped in around her and began to do, what he knew they were trained for.

"Dinah," he called out again. "I'm here. These people .. they're going to help you. They're going to make sure that you're okay. You just hold on."

Her eyes fluttered slowly and he saw a small sliver of the emerald green pools he'd stared into so many times. She looked at him, her body too weak to move, her chest heaving with breaths that were far too shallow and fast. And then, as if she'd barely been there at all, they had her up and in their arms and she was gone.

"Where are they taking her?" Shayne felt as if his own heart might explode as he watched her being loaded into the ambulance.

"Hospital," Klara said softly. "You need me to drive?"

He nodded, unable to process any other possibility. He needed to be with her, whatever it took. He needed to be with both of them.