A/N: I know that you guys want to know about Finn, and I promise you will soon. This is Kurt's story more then Finn's, and the family that's left behind is suffering terribly with out their son, stepson, or crush/brother. Plus, it really took me a long time to decide whether or not I wanted Finn to be alive, dead, or never found at all. Yes, I've decided now.

Sometimes only one person is missing, and the entire world seems depopulated. Alphonse de LaMartine

Finn turned 17 on May 5, but he wasn't present to celebrate. We all pretended that he would be, though, no matter how thin the charade was wearing. I bought him two presents, a nice shirt that would look great on him and a video game that had just come out and Artie swore that Finn would love. Dad bought him an entire new gaming system, the newest one there was, and Carole got him a handful of games, as well as a few things that she kept hidden from Dad and I. Apparently it was some sort of Hudson tradition, one that neither one of us questioned.

For dinner, she made Finn's favorite, and even bought a cake and ice cream for him. Dad had tried to question whether or not that was a good idea, but had been silenced by her glare of death, and her claim that they still didn't know where Finn was, and it was just as likely for him to show up on his birthday as any other day and how would he feel if he saw that no one had made any effort to celebrate his special day? It wasn't like she was going to make us sing or open presents if he wasn't there. We might have been living without a woman in the house for the past 8 years, but neither one of us was willing to risk the wrath of a lioness defending her only cub, so we backed down immediately.

Not that we weren't all incredibly worried about Carole. The longer Finn was missing, the clearer it became to Dad and I that he was never coming home. His picture had been distributed across the nation, newspapers had written articles about him, even Newsweek had published his picture and description as part of a larger article on teen abduction.

After that, calls had poured in. Finn had been seen in Colorado, in the company of a disturbed looking man. Someone was sure that they had seen Finn in Florida, holding the hand of a little girl. Finn was in Maine, Finn was in North Carolina, Finn was seen in Washington DC. Once or twice, he was even seen in Canada. Sometimes he was seen with a man, sometimes with a woman, sometimes with a man and woman. Occasionally someone thought they saw him with a group of teenagers, and, rarely, he was seen with a smaller child. Frequently he would be spotted on opposite ends of the country within a few hours of each other.

I, too, thought I saw Finn places. There would be a tall, dark haired man at the mall, or someone getting Sour Patch Kids at the movies, or sometimes even a voice or a laugh that sounded familiar and made me look twice. A few times I had even gone closer, like a man in a trance, thinking that he was here on purpose, waiting for me to recognize him and tell him how to get home. Once or twice I woke up in the middle of the night and could have sworn I saw Finn in the bed across the room, sleeping peacefully. Of course, Finn was no more in Lima then he was in any of the other places that people claimed to have seen him.

The sightings were all followed up on, and the more promising ones were checked out, but it was never really Finn. America has almost 300,000,000 people in it, and it was shockingly easy for one teenage boy to be hidden.

The calls from people who thought that they had seen Finn were still preferable to the ones from police departments around the country, the ones who had found a body and wanted to ID it. Those were never Finn either, but we all sat on pins and needles until the report came in. It had gotten to the point where Dad and I were trying to intercept all messages from the police, so we could hide those ones from Carole until we knew something for sure.

It didn't seem to be helping, though. Just yesterday, she had trapped Dad at dinner and demanded to know why he hadn't started work on the addition he had promised he was putting up. Finn and I needed some space apart from each other, and it was going to take some time to get up. Dad and I had exchanged worried looks, trying to figure out how to calm her down. Carole's temper was worn thin these days, and she frequently snapped at both of us. She was seeing a therapist, and he had put on an antidepressants (not that anyone told me that, I had snooped and read the labels of the bottles in their bathroom.), but her life was on hold until we had Finn back, one way or another.

After what felt like forever, Dad had nervously served himself some more potatoes and told her that he wanted to wait until Finn came back, so that he could have some input on how he wanted his room to look. Plus, he thought that maybe he and Finn and I could all work on the addition together, a sort of father and sons bonding experience. It had placated her for the moment, but she was headed for some sort of nervous breakdown, and there didn't seem to be anything we could do to stop it. I tried to spend extra time with her, even if it was just doing the dishes or having hot tea together, but between homework and Glee and Cheerios practice and hanging out with Mercedes and Tina, there just wasn't much time for us to do much. I was a poor substitute for who she wanted anyway, no matter what she kept telling me.

Regional's was on the 26th, three weeks to the day after Finn's birthday, but New Directions wouldn't be attending. Despite our best efforts, we hadn't managed to get anyone new, and even if Rachel attempted to bribe Jacob Ben Israel with her panties again, that still left us one member short. We forfeited the competition, and Glee was over.

Only it really wasn't. Sue Sylvester, in a rare moment of humanity, found me sitting mutely in the auditorium one day, staring at the stage that we should have been practicing on. "Lady Face, you should be out on that field, singing Celine Dion until the grass clippings make your throat swell closed. Why are you in here?" Her tone was as condescending as ever, but there was something in her face that told me it was safe to talk.

"I miss Glee." And Finn, and the family I was just getting to know, and all of my friends, but there was no reason to tell her all that.

But I had forgotten that there was very little that Sue Sylvester didn't know, and that she was able to sense weakness and blood better then any piranha. "Does missing Glee have anything to do with missing that lumbering Philistine of a brother of yours?"

I stared at the dirty auditorium floor. "Maybe. It's just…we missed out on even getting a chance to compete this year, because we don't have enough members, and Finn was really looking forward to it. Even if he comes home, we won't get a chance to try, because Figgins is going to cancel the club."

She sat down next to me. "Do you honestly think that he's coming home? Come on, Lady Face, I thought you were more realistic then that."

The key to dealing with Sue Sylvester was not showing her any fear, or letting her know when her barbs hit home. "No. I don't think that Finn is coming home. I think that he's probably dead. If no one called for a ransom, there's no point in them keeping him alive." The words hurt to say, but they were true. "But, until we know for sure, it doesn't hurt to have hope, does it?"

For a long time, I didn't think that she was going to answer. "You know, I have a sister."

I wondered if the sister was as evil as she was. "You do?"

"I do. Two years older then me, if you can believe it. I did everything that she did, looked up to her like she hung the moon and all the stars. Then, one day, she was gone. Not like the Frankenteen is gone, and I could still go visit her, but she didn't live at home any more, and she never would again. I still did all of those things that we had done together, but it wasn't the same. Things are never the same after someone leaves, and sometimes it's better to just let them go rather then live with the afterimage. You aren't going to bring him back by performing in Glee without him. That club isn't a magic spell and Will Shuester is certainly no wizard, despite the lousy hair."

There was a certain amount of truth in what she was saying, but I wanted Glee to still be there for myself as much as I did for Finn. Saying that, though, would just invite ridicule, though. "I know."

She gave me a long, measured, look. "Then march yourself back out to that football field and start warbling. You will hold that high note for 40 seconds flat, while being flipped twice, or I will mutilate your genitals. If you think you're singing soprano now, you don't even want to know what you'll be capable of by the time I'm finished, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Coach Sylvester." Weird as it sounded, I actually didn't mind her ranting. At least she was the same, no matter that everyone else had changed, including me.

That should have been the end of it, but it wasn't. I was barely back from winning Nationals for the Cheerios when Mr. Shue called an emergency meeting of the soon-to-be-disbanded Glee Club at his apartment. It was an odd change, but he did promise pizza, which ensured that we would all be there. Since it was the day of Regional's, I assumed that he was trying to keep all of our minds off of the fact that we had been disqualified. Personally, I would have rather stayed at home and sulked, but I appreciated the gesture.

I finally had my car back, after I had pointed out that Dad had been holding on to it long enough that he could have replaced every moving part at least twice. I had new restrictions, though, and wasn't allowed to go anywhere alone in it. Normally that would have been grounds for a tantrum and some serious sulking, but I was doing my best to be invisible these days, so I accepted it quietly. There was no point in making waves, not when the entire Hudson/Hummel clan was already caught in a whirlpool.

Mercedes was already over, so she and I went to pick up Tina, then Matt. No one knew what was going on, but we all sensed the impending goodbye. Tina smiled sadly. "It's nice of him to get us dinner. I mean, it's not like he has much extra money or anything."

"He's probably using the last of the money allotted to the club, so it won't go back into the school's pool or to get the Cheerios facials or something." Mercedes was heartbroken, and, just like always, she tried to cover it with her attitude.

"Maybe it's good news. Shue sounded excited on the phone." Matt was in the very back, drumming out a rhythm on the window with his fingers.

"Maybe Rachel's idea of going to the paper helped." Tina didn't sound very hopeful.

Defeat was not in Rachel Berry's repertoire, not matter how insurmountable the odds seemed. I would sooner die then admit it, but I admired her strength and willingness to keep fighting. The past few months had just about burned the fight right out of me.

She had marched right up to Jacob Ben Israel two days ago, sexy panties in hand, and demanded that he write and article for the Glee Club, playing on the duel tragedy of losing two members to crime and then having the club they had worked so hard in be disbanded due to not having enough members for competition. His quick agreement was no doubt helped along by the fact that she hadn't worn a bra that day, but he claimed he would have something by the time the last paper of the year was published. "It's too soon."

By this time, we all knew the way to Mr. Shuster's apartment, and, even if our parents might wonder about the appropriateness of it all, we were always welcome there. He was almost always home, and, if you visited, you could always count on at least a sympathetic ear and a hot meal. I tried not to go over there too much, since both Dad and Carole needed me at home, but it was nice to be able to get away from the suffocating tension in the house sometimes. For Mr. Shue's sake, though I always tried to pretend that it wasn't about Finn, so he didn't feel compelled to talk about him. Finn was always Mr. Shue's favorite, and I knew that loosing him had been like losing his own son.

Mr. Shue's apartment was small, and usually had that drab, cold, bachelor look to it, but not today. Today there were streamers and (oh, god help us) glitter and even helium filled balloons floating around the tiny kitchen. The smell of hot pizza drifted through the air, and I actually found myself hungry. My appetite was kind of hit and miss these days, though it was usually better outside of the house. Even though Dad and Carole insisted on having dinner together as often as possible, everyone was so tense that it killed my appetite more often then not. I usually forced something down as quickly as possible, then made some excuse to go to my room. I had actually lost 10 lbs since Finn had vanished. Of course, because the world hates me, I found out that I really didn't look better after I lost weight, and I actually looked too skinny. Damn it all.

There was something else different, something that I couldn't quite put my finger on. I looked around the room, but there was nothing different. It wasn't until Mr. Shue looked up from cutting the pizza that I realized what it was. Mr. Shue was actually smiling. "Kurt, Mercedes, Matt, come get some pizza. There's Hawaiian, and Extra Cheese and Veggie and Pepperoni. Sodas and waters are in the fridge, keep away from the beer."

Like I would drink something so full of empty calories anyway. Not to mention even the thought of alcohol made me nauseous after April Rhodes and her getting me drunk.

I'm pretty sure you got yourself drunk, Kurt. I mean, come on, one look at that outfit and you should have known what a moron she was. That was all your own fault, sweetie.

I was neither going to confirm nor deny that blasphemous statement, so I grabbed a piece of veggie pizza instead. "Water, please, Mercedes."

Mr. Shue waited until everyone was there and eating before holding up his hands. "Guys, guys, pay attention. Guys!" As always, the group ignored his first through third calls, before finally quieting on the fourth. "Ok, I have great news for all of you. Glee isn't cancelled!"

The room went silent, then exploded in a cacophony of cheers. Drinks were spilled, pizza hit the floor, people screamed and nobody cared about any of it. Mercedes was squeezing me so tightly that I could barely breathe, but I felt too frozen to move. Glee wasn't over? How?

Luckily, Rachel Berry, the famous trout mouth of McKinley High, recovered her voice first. "I knew it! I knew that appealing to Jacob Ben Israel's journalistic sense of fairness would cause justice to prevail! This was totally worth the sacrifice of my panties!"

Shuester stared. "Your panties?" He visibly shook himself. "No, it was Coach Sylvester. I don't know what got into her, possibly a brain tumor or a personality transplant, but she personally talked Figgins into giving the Glee Club another year."

"Damn." The room was so silent that Mercedes' quiet exhalation sounded like a shout.

I flashed back to the talk Coach Sylvester and I had had in the auditorium two weeks ago. Had she actually taken pity on me?

It's not the first time she's done that. Remember when she paid to have the wheelchair ramps put in at school? I think it all comes back to that sister she told you about. What was wrong with her that they sent her away? Was she in a wheelchair? Mentally handicapped? Violent?

Rachel leaned back in her chair. "Do you think I can still get my panties back then?"

Quinn snorted. "He's had them for two days now. Do you really want them back?"

The girl paled. "Oh, God." Her fingers clutched the arms of the chair she was sitting in. "Oh, God."

I snickered a little into my hand, even though I found the thought as disgusting as she did. It was just nice to see Rachel Berry totally speechless for once.

Tina poked me from the other side. "Kurt, we won. Believe it or not, we actually won."

Only we hadn't. We had earned ourselves another year, but, come September, we would be in the same situation. Only ten members, and a severe lack of male voices. As much as I liked my own voice, I had to admit that it was more in line with the girls then the boys.

Maybe Finn will come back. Of course, you don't believe that he's still alive, so you don't think he'll be back.

I felt my eyes narrow at the tone. I thought you said that nothing I could do would help him. You're the one who told me that he was dead.

No, I didn't. I told you that you couldn't do anything to help him, but that doesn't mean that no one can help him. Finn's still alive, for the time being at least.

If that voice was me, and unless I had developed a split personality, it was, then a part of me still believed that Finn was alive, despite the odds. Could he possibly be?

Maybe. I don't read the future, Kurt; I just tell it like it is.

Shouting drew my attention back to the matter at hand. Santana had one hand on her hip. "What? I'm just being honest. This is a temporary reprieve guys. Puck's dead, Finn might as well be dead, and there's not one else who's going to join. The club will last until Sectionals, then have to withdraw again."

Not that I hadn't been having the exact same thoughts, but it surprised me that she would say it out loud. Just like usually happened, everyone started yelling then, and I couldn't pick anyone's voice out of the cacophony. If Finn had been here, he would have known how to make a goofy joke and settle everyone down, but none of the rest of us had that talent.

If Finn were here right now, you guys would be performing at Regional's, so it wouldn't be an issue.

"Hey." The voice was feminine and very soft, drowned out by the voices surrounding it. I only heard it because it was right behind my chair. "Guys?" I turned to see what the problem was, about the time Quinn lost her patience. "Listen you fucking assholes!"

Her sweet voice saying those filthy words brought everything to a screeching halt. At the same time, I felt something wet against my bare feet. Oh, dear Prada, please don't let that be-

"My water just broke."

Eww! I yanked my feet up and barely managed to refrain from shrieking like a woman seeing a mouse and jumping onto the chair. People immediately started dithering about, while we all tried to figure out how to get her to the hospital. Call me cold, but I was not having her deliver that baby in my car.

In fairly short order, it was decided that Shuester, Mercedes and Quinn would ride in his car, and the rest of us would split into the remaining ones. I wasn't sure if I wanted to be stuck at the hospital for that long, but Dad and Carole were out tonight and I had promised not to be at the house alone. Dad was trying so hard to cheer her up and I knew that if they got home and found me there, it would ruin all of his efforts.

Mike and Matt were gathering up the pizza and sodas as quickly as they could, while Shuester scooped Quinn up into his arms, despite her protests that women all over the world delivered in empty fields and she would be fine, and carried her down the stairs.

Luckily, Lima's a tiny town, so it was only a 10 minute drive to the hospital. The receptionist raised a dry eyebrow at the food and sheer number of people and asked "so, has she had the baby already?" At our negative, she sighed. "Then why are we celebrating so soon?"

Mr. Shue tried to explain the situation while orderlies took both Quinn and Mercedes to the back. One person and one person only could be in the delivery room and Mercedes was more the equal to the task.

Tina leaned against me from the other side. "Do you think she'll keep her?"

"I don't know." Quinn had been very quiet lately about the baby and what she planned to do when it was born. For all of the fighting she and Puck had done about whether they should keep it or adopt it out, they never seemed to come to any sort of actual decision. Well, they did, but it changed so often that it was impossible to be sure what they wanted from day to day, or even hour to hour.

I didn't know whether Quinn would be a good mother, especially completely alone, but was not knowing how to raise a baby a reason to give it away? She could learn, and she would have us to help her. Could she really hold her baby in her arms and just give her away? Or maybe it all came back to Finn, who our entire family desperately wanted to be able to hold and couldn't, and I just couldn't conceive of someone willingly letting their child go, losing it like we had lost Finn.

It's not the same and you know it. Quinn needs to decide what's best not only for the baby, but for herself, too. What good is it if the baby has someone who loves her, but who can't afford to put food on the table, or works three jobs to support them and never sees her own daughter? Look how hard Carole's had to struggle with Finn, and she has a good job and benefits from Finn's father's death.

"I don't think she will. Keep her, I mean. She never talks about her any more. Doesn't touch her stomach or talk about names or sing to her like she did in the beginning. She's already started to give her up."

I hadn't noticed, but there was truth in that statement. Quinn had gone from referring to the fetus as 'my baby', to 'the baby', to just 'her' over the past few weeks. The connection was gone, severed for her own self preservation. "Whatever she picks, I hope she's sure." There wouldn't be any second chances if she changed her mind.

The door opened and a blond woman walked in. She was unfamiliar, but a nervous prickle started up the base of my spine. She looked over us, her blue eyes reminding me of someone, and marched to the front desk. "Judith Fabray? My daughter Quinn is in labor."

Breaths were sucked in all over the room. So this was the woman who kicked her own teenaged daughter out of the house for being pregnant. Ok, so she hadn't actually done it, but she had stood there and let her bully of a husband do it, which was just as bad in my book. Quinn had bounced to Finn's, then Puck's, and her parents hadn't called once. I knew this for a fact, because I had heard Finn and Puck talking about it one night when I was pretending to be asleep.

The entire thing gave me chills, because I had had visions of my father doing the exact same thing to me when I told him that I was gay. Actually, my visions had involved not only not getting 15 minutes to pack, but him turning violent before shoving me out into the cold. I guess I've always been a bit of a drama king.

Judith must have felt my eyes on her, because her eyes met mine, surprising me with the amount of pain in them. Neither one of us spoke, because there was nothing for us to say to each other. We didn't know one another, and we would probably never see each other again.

Santana didn't have the same constraints. She was still itching for a fight, since she had been interrupted at Mr. Shue's apartment, and the perfect target was standing right in front of her. "Oh, look who's here! It's the woman who threw her daughter and granddaughter in the streets! It's a girl by the way, which I know must be disappointing for you since we all know that girls can't do much but look pretty and keep their legs together until you marry them off to some nice Christian man. But, hey, maybe you could get it right with this one. Can't have another slut shaming the Fabray name, now can we?"

"Santana!" Mr. Shue was doing his best to sound shocked, but he's a better singer then he is an actor, and I knew that it was all a show. He was as angry about Quinn's situation as the rest of us, and, even though politeness prevented him from saying these things himself, he wasn't going to be too terribly upset by Santana doing it.

"What? I'm just making sure I understand what's happening here." She turned to the receptionist, who had given up all pretense of not staring at the train wreck in the delivery room. "Can you be charged with child abandonment if you put your 16 year old daughter out in the street without any money or a place to go? Because we might need to call the police. Here, I have my cell in my purse."

Had it been anyone else, I would have thought that they were bluffing, but Santana can be fiercely protective of the people she loved, and I had no doubt that she would follow through with the threat.

Crocodile tears pooled in Judith's eyes. "You have no idea how hard that was for me. It was all her father's doing, I couldn't stop him. But I've left him now, and I want my baby girl and her baby girl home with me. I can make a life for us now."

"Really? You left him? Did you finally find out about him and his secretary? Because, let me tell you, Quinn and I have known about that since middle school."

Wow, she really knows how to twist the dagger, now doesn't she? You could take a few lessons from her.

I was pretty sure I didn't want lessons in how to be that nasty. I fully recognized that I could be bitchy on occasion, but downright cruel? Never.

Really? Every time you get threatened, you start frantically manipulating everyone around you. You don't think that it was cruel to try and break Carole and your father up; just because you got your panties in a wad over the amount of attention he was paying to Finn? And speaking of being cruel to Finn…do I really need to go there?

No, she didn't. When I was desperate and caught up in the moment, none of those things had seemed bad. But, standing back from them all, I wasn't too proud to admit that I had probably screwed up. Badly. I just wished that that stupid voice would quit bringing it up.

"Mrs. Fabray?" A young man in scrubs was standing in the doorway to labor and delivery. "Your daughter wants you."

Santana snorted, enraged that her target was escaping yet again. She threw herself down into one of then uncomfortable chairs and glared at the ceiling. "Really, Q? Are you going to break that easily? Coach Sylvester should have taught you better."

We all retreated into a moody silence then, picking at the pizzas that had long since gone cold and wasting our time snapping at each other just to have an excuse to hear someone else's voice. I called Dad and Carole, to let them know where I was, then settled down for the long wait.

I didn't have to stay, of course. But we were the Glee Club, and we stuck together, even more now then we did before Puck and Finn disappeared. Still, giving birth took forever.

Tina fell asleep against my side around 11, and I leaned into her, dozing myself until Mercedes shook me awake. "Come on, Kurt, don't you want to see her?"

Who? I was totally disoriented and had no idea what time it was, or why the lights in the basement had suddenly gotten so bright. "Huh?"

"The baby! Come on." I allowed her to pull me to my feet, remembering that we were here to see Drizzle. No matter what Quinn decided to call her, she would always be Drizzle to me.

Quinn looked like hell, but no one was really looking at her. We were all focused on the tiny, squalling, tomato colored, little person in her arms. It was…honestly, it was kind of ugly. It was squinty and rashy and making a noise that sounded like an enraged kitten more then an actual baby. "Wow, she's….little."

Quinn laughed a little and patted the side of the bed. "Do you want to hold her?"

Did I? What if it leaked fluids on my expensive blazer? Still, I sat numbly and put out my arms, allowing her to position the baby. "Make sure you support her little head, she can't hold it up on her own."

"Why does Kurt get to hold her first? We're your friends." Santana was staring at the baby with a mixture of awe and disgust.

"Kurt doesn't get to hold her first, Mercedes and Mom already did. Plus, I know that he can be gentle with very delicate things and I don't quite trust the rest of you."

I listened with half an ear, amazed by how light the baby was. My hairdryer weighed more. And was that…oh dear, I swear she had a tiny blond mohawk. How could something with a little bit of fuzz rather then hair have a mohawk already?

Quinn was still talking. "Guys, I would like you to meet Elizabeth Finley Fabray, who will soon be Elizabeth Finley Corcoran. Shelby said that I could pick her names, and Puck wanted to call her Beth. Then Finley for Finn."

Mrs. Fabray gasped. "Please, Quinnie, you don't have to give her up. We'll work something out together if you want to keep her."

The blond head shook. "I don't. I want to go back to school next year as a 16 year old girl, not a mother. Shelby said that she'll send pictures, and I can even see Beth when she's a little older. She gave a little girl up once, too, and she knows what it's like to miss something that was never really yours. I'm sure, Mom. If-" Her voice caught, but she forged ahead. "If Puck was still alive, I might feel differently, but he isn't and I want this baby to have a real chance in the world. I've already signed the papers and Shelby will pick her up when its time for her to be released. That's why I wanted all of you to meet her now, because there isn't going to be another chance. She'll only be ours until tomorrow."

Beth made a soft noise, and I offered her back to her…mother? Should I call Quinn the mom, even if we all knew that she wasn't? Quinn took her and cradled her until she was quiet, then passed her over to Tina. Cell phones were brought out and cameras flashed as we all tried to capture as many picture of the baby as we could. Everyone got a picture of themselves holding her, and there were plenty of just the baby.

We were all as quiet as possible, recognizing the moment for what it was, but eventually, the nurse shooed us out, claiming that both mother and baby needed their rest. I ended up with Mercedes, Tina, Santana and Britney in the car, and their chatter filled up the night. I dropped them off one by one, until it was just Mercedes and I in the car. I didn't want to ask, but I couldn't help it. "Was it gross? Watching her be born and all?"

She laughed. "Let's just say that you should be glad that you weren't there. If you weren't already gay, you would be by the time it was over. I mean, I'm pretty sure that I'm going to die a virgin if that's where sex gets you."

"Maybe the Abstinence Club or whatever it is that they call it should show a video of that instead. It would probably be more effective."

"Probably." We were in her driveway by then, so she gave me a quick kiss and opened the door. "It was pretty amazing, though. Call me when you get home."

"Of course." I called Dad to let him know that I was leaving and would be home in 15 minutes. I knew that if I wasn't there in 20, he would be looking for me. It was comforting and suffocating at the same time.

I made it home in 12 minutes flat. Carole was waiting for me at the door. "So, how are Mama and the baby?" I searched her face for any sign of sarcasm, considering that she had though that this baby was her grandchild for a few months, but I found none. She seemed genuinely concerned.

"Both good. Beth's so little, like a doll. Kind of red, though, and noisy." My nose wrinkled. "She smelled weird, too."

Carole laughed. "That's the way babies are. I gained 50lbs when I was pregnant with Finn, and when he came out, all I could think was: this is it? This is all of him? And he was a big baby, almost 11lbs. He was red, too, and blotchy. Nothing like you think your precious baby is going to look." She paused for a minute. "Beth? That's a pretty name."

I wondered if I should tell her the rest. "Elizabeth Finley."

Tears formed in her eyes. "How beautiful. You'll have to get her a present, Kurt. Maybe a little outfit, I'm sure you can find a way to match clothes for even an infant."

"She's not keeping her. The adoptive mother is going to take her right from the hospital." I held out my phone. "I took pictures, though, in case you and Dad wanted to see them."

"That's probably for the best. It's hard to raise a baby on your own, no matter what your age, and if she's not sure, it's better to let someone else have it." She flipped through the pictures. "She's a pretty little girl. It's been a long time since I saw one quite so new."

Then she straightened up. "Your father is already in bed, which is where we should both be going. It's late, and I have shopping to do tomorrow."

The only times she ever left the house any more was to go shopping or go to the police station. We never did anything fun or even something not fun as a family. We were broken, and there didn't seem to be anything we could do to fix it.

Saying that, though, was inviting trouble. "Ok. Goodnight Carole, I'll see you tomorrow." I never called her 'mom' and she never called me anything but my name. In the beginning she had, but now it was an unspoken agreement that, until Finn was home, she wouldn't let me get close enough to be her child, almost as if attaching to me was somehow betraying him. I got it, a part of me still felt like I was betraying my mother by being close to Carole herself. But still, I couldn't help but wish that she would call me 'sweetie' or 'honey', or 'baby', or even 'son'. Just something to remind her that I was here, and I needed her, too.

"Goodnight, Kurt."