Author's note:

This chapter is dedicated to T Traveller & CTHEWOODS

Chapter eighteen

Christian POV

I turned my phone off right well before the judge entered the courtroom and leaned back in my chair. This was just another day in this long drawn battle of continuances; only patience, piety, and persistence would win the fight. After months of running low, things were about to get better. I could feel it in my bones.

Outside, the weather was fair here in Seattle. Other parts of the country weren't' so lucky. Apparently, Elena was flying in from the East coast where an ice storm had caused a state of emergency. Part of me really hoped that she was sitting in her frozen car somewhere on a highway dying of exposure. But I'd never been that lucky.

I looked up just in time to watch Elena and her team of henchmen/lawyers walk in like they owned the place. Next to her was a blonde woman I didn't initially recognize. Searching my memory bank, I realized this must be Elena's daughter Stephanie. I hadn't seen her in years, she looked nothing like Elena or the scrawny kid I remembered. As far as I knew, Stephanie lived abroad, she'd been in away in boarding school most of her life as I recalled.

Throughout the proceedings, the blonde made eye contact with me and smiled. She was proud of her Parisian chic style; she flirted with her wavy hair cascading around her shoulders, her finger winding around a few silky tendrils. Beside her, Elena scowled when she noticed Stephanie checking me out and nudged her with her elbow.

I broke eye contact and I forced myself to focus on the big picture; when this is over, Elena is going to be sorry she ever got her claws on what's rightfully mine. Unfortunately, right now my team was considerably smaller than it would have been if my father hadn't cut me out of his will. I got Taylor and Steinberg and that's about it. As news spread about my financial ruin, Carrick's army of attorneys turned their backs on me, limiting my options.

I looked over at Taylor sitting on the other side of me, nowadays he was more like a friend than a bodyguard. But I wasn't complaining, Taylor was worth his weight in gold.

Beside me, Steinberg shifted in his seat as the plaintiff called their first witness, Dr. Jones, a handwriting expert. Dr. Jones went on to testify that even though many factors that can lead a person to write their signature in different ways, he believed that the signatures matched. It was time for Steinberg to cross-examine the witness.

"Yes, after examining the writing samples of both copies of the will, the older copy plus the recent copy Mr. Carrick signed on his death bed versus the letters provided by Ms. Elena Lincoln, are definite indicators that the same person who wrote the letters also signed the two Last Will and Testament documents."

"Definite indicators?" Steinberg questioned. "However, you cannot state with any degree of certainty that there's a definite match between the signature in the documents and the letters? Isn't that correct, Dr. Jones?"

"Objection, your honor," the plaintiff protested. "Your honor, absolute certainty of a handwriting expert is not a requirement to be admissible according to US versus Herrera ( 4th circa 1987)".

"Sustained," the judge muttered.

Steinberg nodded and turned to the witness. "Mr. Jones, you testified that there is a definite discrepancy in the signatures presented in the letters...is that correct?'

"Yes, but-"

"Very well. Given that the signature of the latest copy of the will is sloppy and markedly different from the other signatures, isn't it entirely possible the Exhibit E was signed under duress?"

"Yes, like I said before, there are several factors that affect the quality of a signature including the pressure put on the paper and flow of the ink. A person would necessarily be more careful writing a signature on their last will as opposed to a FED-EX receipt, for example."

"So...in your professional opinion, is the signature in Exhibit E sloppier and markedly different than the other signatures?"

"Yes...but that is to be expected considering that Mr. Carrick Grey was on his death bed and under the influence of pain killers."

Steinberg smiled. "However, it is your definite testimony that there is a marked difference between the signatures, is it not? It's a yes or no question."

"Yes," Dr. Jones admitted rather reluctantly.

"Is it entirely possible that someone else could have forged the signature since your definite indicators are NOT absolute certainty?"

"Well...it's possible but highly unlikely..."

"But it's possible? Again, Dr. Jones, it's a yes or no question."

"Yes, it's possible," Dr. Jones said after a long exhale.

My lips curved into a triumphant smile. This was definitely a win. I couldn't wait to bring the witch down to her knees and recover everything that was rightfully mine. Next, Steinberg was calling a psychological expert to testify as to Carrick's frame of mind when he supposedly signed the document. All we needed was to prove that it was entirely possible that Carrick, even if he indeed signed the document, had no knowledge of what he was signing.

Dr. Flynn, the psychiatrist who had seen Carrick over the years was to testify to the nature of Carrick and Elena's on and off again dysfunctional relationship which spanned several decades. Their relationship was like a cancer that keeps coming back. The bitch was already in the picture when Grace and Carrick adopted me. I recall her playing the role of dutiful friend to my mother and then barely waiting until after her funeral to make a move on Carrick. I don't think my father ever saw through her, not even while on remission. or learned of her involvement with me.

It was going to be hard listening to Dr. Flynn's testimony, especially since I had also been his patient. However, I didn't expect any of my dirty laundry to be aired. Just as Steinberg moved to call Dr. Flynn, the plaintiff called for a continuance which the judge promptly granted.

Later, as I was leaving the courthouse, Stephanie approached me. Elena was nowhere in sight. So predictable. Of course, her mother sent her to spy on me. Classic Elena.

"Christian," Stephanie smiled at me, "long time no see."

My first instinct was to ignore her. But I quickly changed my mind as a new idea started forming in my head.

"Stephanie?" I cocked my head, pretending I wasn't sure. She nodded and smiled.

"Are you free for dinner and catch up on old times?" She paused. "I hope this lawsuit doesn't mean we can't be friends."

"I need to check with my wife," I replied noncommittally. Just how stupid does this woman think I am? I continued walking down the hall with Steinberg and Taylor by my side. Someone else approached Stephanie and she waved at me to wait. Instead of waiting, I kept moving ahead. As I went through the doors and inhaled some fresh air, I remembered to turn on my phone. Twenty thousand notifications popped up. It was then I realized I had missed a bunch of calls from Ana.

….

Ana POV

When Jane and Paul finally came to my aid, I was in so much pain that tears were streaming down my face. "I need to go to the hospital!" I sobbed. "Help me, HELP ME!" I stood up as best as I could and tried to walk toward them, but another powerful contraction nearly knocked me down. Thankfully, Jane and Paul dashed over and carried me by the arms, one on each side of me.

They took me over to the next room where the bed was unmade and covered with towels. Before I knew what was happening, I was lying on my back on the bed and Jane had eased my dress above my knees. I was beyond caring at this point, I felt as if the pain was bringing me close to the verge of unconsciousness.

"Ana, relax, my dear," Jane said moving over to take a closer look. "Oh, my," she said alarmed at what she saw. "This baby's not waiting!"

Even though she'd said that another couple of hours of agony went by before anything happened.

"Please! Christian...call him, call him!" I told them over and over but they both ignored me. Judging by the way these two were behaving, there was no chance they were calling an ambulance now, let alone notify my husband I was in labor.

"Draw up your knees and push hard into your bottom," Jane instructed me.

I was utterly terrified. "I can't-I can't-" I cried. Can somebody please save me so that I don't have to do this?

"Yes, you can! C'mon, Ana, your baby is almost here!" Jane encouraged, "I can see the head now, c'mon, another push!"

I pushed (but only because I had no choice). Jane moved to where the baby's head crowning and started doing something I couldn't understand.

"What's happening?" I panicked.

"We need to wait for the next contraction and then you gotta give the biggest push of all, you understand? You can do this! She's almost here!" Jane asked and I nodded.

It seemed like minutes passed and nothing was happening.

Paul moved to assist in holding my legs while Jane positioned herself to deliver the baby.

"Push, Ana, PUSH!"

As I began to bear down again, clutching the sheets into a tight fist, the sound of thunder rolled above our heads and the lights flickered on and off. At last, I felt the baby begin to emerge and in the next blink, I caught sight of the umbilical cord being cut.

"Where's my baby?" I asked breathlessly. Using all the strength I could muster, I propped myself up on one elbow. "Is...is there something wrong?"

Jane turned her back to me. I caught a glimpse of her holding the limp body of my little girl by the feet.

Deafening silence. Why isn't she crying?

"C'mon, baby, time to breathe!" I heard Paul say. He positioned himself in such a way that I couldn't' get a good view of the baby.

"I want to see her!" I cried.

"It's best this way, it will make the separation easier on you," Paul to glance at me over his shoulder. "We're going to put the baby on some oxygen so she can start breathing."

While Jane continued to minister to the baby, Paul went to get a vial and a syringe. Before I even had the chance to breathe, he surprised me by pushing the syringe into my arm.

"OUCH!?" I screamed, rubbing my arm, stunned.

"Just something that will help you rest my dear," Paul said with a weird smile.

What happened next was a lot like watching a movie with frames missing. My brain scrambled at a different speed and lost track of time. I drifted in and out of consciousness; the temptation to just simply lie there and fall into a deeper sleep was overwhelming.

I have a secret for you, baby, my mom used to whisper to me back when things were okay. When daddy was still alive. When she still tucked me at night, when she took care of me instead of the other way around. I'm not really your mom, your real mom was a mermaid, she'd say, knowing I'd dream about it that night, the soft coolness of the deep water, the castles under the sea.

When I woke up hours later ( or so it seemed) I felt weak, drenched in sweat, and drowsy. Jane was sitting beside me with a somber expression.

"Where is she?" I asked, scrambling to my elbows. "My baby? Where's my baby!?"

Jane shook her head. "I'm sorry, but she didn't make it."

"Wh-what?" I wailed, bending over in an effort to sit up straight. Everything inside me ached like I've been run over by a semi-truck. "NO! NO!"

"She was just too early...at thirty-four weeks old her lungs were insufficiently developed...poor thing!" She said shaking her head.

I plopped back down into the pillow and screamed. Oh, God! She was dead! NO! NO! Clearly, this was my punishment for wanting to give her away.

"I want to see her!" I sobbed. "I want to hold her!"

"No, Ana, I don't think that's a good idea," Paul said. At one point he must have come back into the room or he'd been there all along, I wasn't sure.

With a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach, I pleaded with them to let me see my baby but they adamantly refused. I asked them to please call the hospital and Christian and let them know what happened. Maybe my baby wasn't dead and there was still something the doctors could still do for her.

After a while, I tried to sit up again but couldn't. I scarcely had the energy to grieve the loss of the sweet child I had carried for eight months. My last thought before the world went black was that God was punishing me, I deserved all of this and more.

Somehow, I managed to stagger downstairs and made a beeline for the couch where I remembered setting my purse, knowing I only had seconds to spare. They were coming after me any minute now. Paul and Jane had abducted me, I was convinced. What's more, they'd hidden my baby somewhere; even though it didn't really make sense, even though the adoption papers were already drawn and I was giving them the baby legally. For some unfathomable reason, they were doing this to me.

I stared incredulously at the spot where my purse should have been. My eyes scanned the room wildly but I couldn't find my purse anywhere.

I continued to wander through the house, looking for a landline, and stumble into the kitchen. There was a huge spread of food worthy of a wedding-a cheese plate, piles of fruit, crackers, fancy cured meats. It was mine, all of it. The mermaid queen in her castle. I selected several pieces of cheese and some meat, taking a handful with me.

Once I was convinced there wasn't a soul in the house, I sprinted outside down the rain-slicked road. I had no idea where I'd go or how I would get a phone, but I just knew I couldn't go back there.

I wanted to jump the bridge that separated this land from the sea of impossible choices.

I've always loved the beach at night, mom used to tell me right before bed. According to her, my mermaid family had dropped me off when I was a baby before I had a chance to grow my tail. It was a bedtime story, yes. But I always sort of believed it a little. Just a tiny sliver, anyway. That if I just did everything right, one day my mermaid family would come back for me.

The sun started shining over the horizon. Out in the distance, I heard my baby's cries. YES! She was alive, she was alive! I ran back to the house and climbed the narrow staircase two steps at a time. Through blurry eyes, I saw the landing halfway down. My balance shifted and held onto the banister for dear life, sidestepping to avoid the obstacle in my way. This was impossible. My notebook from 5th grade filled with sketches I had doodled, mermaid tails and hearts and musical notes. How it got here I have no idea, I lost it years ago. Instead of reaching for it, I stepped on a random page and watched it fall through the slats and felt numb. It didn't have to be this way; I didn't have to become a mermaid permanently, I could use my trident to disintegrate the wall that separated my new home from the sea so we could all be together forever.

Christian and I... and the baby.

Mermaids exist. There are parts of the ocean that no human has ever explored. Why can't there be mermaids that live there, flicking their tails at the stars? They aren't afraid to enter the castle under the sea, play their magical harps, and unlock all their secrets and take them to a better place. To a happily-ever-after. Those mermaids are not the mermaids of fairy tales. They are smarter. They make the right choices. They swim through all the obstacles and claim their daughters.

I followed my daughter's cries and headed straight for the yellow-blue walled nursery and peaked inside the crib. I smiled brightly. My sweet baby was wrapped in a yellow receiving blanket, wearing a blue knit hat. I lifted her into my arms, counted all fingers and toes. How silly of me. I threw my head back and laughed. Of course, she had no tail; mermaids don't really exist. With a big sigh of relief, I held her tight against my chest and cried tears of sheer delight, bliss, and profound joy.

Author's note:

To be continued ASAP.

In the meantime, do you feel like playing GUESS WHO?

POLL: Who is Carrick's long-lost daughter? VOTE FOR ONE

1) Ana

2) Stephanie

3) Jane

4) None of the above. She hasn't made an appearance yet.

I've left a few clues in these last two chapters, see you soon!