AN: Happy Saturday! Thank you all for your continued support and reviews. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I've got a few chapters ready to go but for my sanity until after the wedding, I'm still planning on one a week posted on Saturdays. I may pick up the pace sometime after the wedding, but this pace seems sustainable to me and my life right now. Also, let me know what you think about the shifting POVs. I plan to mostly write from Christian's perspective, but if readers like the idea of seeing into other character's minds during certain parts of the story, I'd love to incorporate Ana's as well. Testing it out with Grace's for this chapter.

Also- the child depicted in the story cover photo is not a real child. I used AI to generate a photo based on a description I typed out. Just wanted to cover that as well.

Possible Triggers: Reference to injuries sustained from child abuse, reference to suicide with no depiction.

Grace POV

It had been a long day at the hospital. At this stage in my career, I mainly worked at my practice, but I covered a few shifts here and there in the hospital setting. This one had been a particularly long shift…twelve hours had quickly turned into fourteen, and the other attending physician who was set to come in to relieve me was running behind. I was just ready to get home and see my husband. Currently, I was trying to catch up on some charting in the very few free moments I had been able to have on this shift.

My mind was wandering. I was thinking of my children. Elliot—and Kate. They had plans to travel soon. I'm sure my son would enjoy a vacation with the beautiful blonde. The thing about that situation was, Elliot had been through many relationships. Kate seemed sweet…good for him even. I hoped he would settle down. I hoped she wasn't a fling. I also hoped he wouldn't hurt the girl. She was Ana's best friend after all and Ana, that was a different story.

Christian had never brought a girl home to meet us. I had gone through a brief period where I wondered if my son was more attracted to men. I would've supported him in whoever he loved, as long as they loved him back. Ana did. It was so painfully obvious that she adored my son. My son…he seemed so much happier around her. He let his guard down, even if it was just in a tiny way. She seemed perfect for him. She made him happy.

Happiness, after all, is really a parent ever wants for their child. Happiness, safety, and love. The trifecta of my wishes for my children. That seemed to be coming true for my sons and Mia—she's still young. I have no worries she'll find a wonderful spouse one day.

A knock on my office door pulled me from my thoughts. Benjamin, one of our ER residents, took a step in. "Dr. Trevelyan-Grey…I know you're probably trying to get out of here but Dr. Smith is still not here and we've got a rather difficult situation in the ER. We could really use someone experienced."

"Sure, I'll come down. Can you give me some sort of a brief explanation?" I asked as I stood up, picking up my lab coat from where it was draped over my chair.

"Young girl, four years old. She was brought in with her mother. Her mother…well her mother killed herself right in front of the child. The child herself seems malnourished and is covered in injuries. One of the nurses is trying to get her cleaned up and injuries documented, but the child is very frightened." He told me. "She hasn't spoken yet…not a single word."

I sighed. Abuse cases were difficult. They always were and always had been. They took me back to the memories of Christian when he was young. Tiny and battered Christian. The silent little boy that stole my heart with his bright gray eyes full of fear and pain no young child should ever experiences. Gray eyes that captured my heart the instant I saw them. Carrick had been surprised to receive the call he did from me that day, though he hadn't questioned it. Most men, I assumed, would be a little less open to their wife calling and saying, "We have a new son", but my husband was always patient, and he trusted me.

"Her name is Rowan from what the EMTs were able to gather from mom before she was unconscious and she's just two weeks shy of her fifth birthday." Jackson told me as we reached the door to one of the ER treatment rooms.

I nodded and my eyes studied the room. The first thing I noticed was not anything about the girl, but it was her clothes. Dirty…torn. But more concerningly, blood covered. I assumed the blood wasn't hers or Jackson would have said something about more major injuries. I studied the girl next as she stood in the corner of the room, trembling as one of the nurses knelt in front of her, speaking to her in a very gentle voice, trying to earn her trust. The child was tiny…skin and bones. Little arms and legs were covered in bruises. Her little cheeks were dirty, covered in dirt like she hadn't been bathed in weeks. Something about her felt familiar though. My eyes met hers. She had vibrant blue eyes, bloodshot from crying. Tears rolled down her little cheeks. Her beautiful copper red hair was caked to her cheeks, mud, tears, sweat, and blood sticking it to her.

I took a deep breath. This was going to be a tough one.

"Rowan, this is Dr. Trevelyan Grey." The nurse told the child softly.

"But you, my dear, can call me Grace." I smiled at the girl as I took a few steps towards her, kneeling down to be on her level. "I'm here to help make sure you're okay and make sure anything that is hurting on you doesn't hurt so badly anymore. I'm here to take care of you."

She bit her lip, watching me carefully. Her eyes darted between me, Jackson, and the nurse. Rapidly switching between us. Sizing us up.

"It's okay, Darling. You're safe here. We aren't going to hurt you." I assured her.

"Momma died." She whispered so soft I barely could make out the words.

"I know, Baby. I'm so sorry." I told her.

"I want my momma." She cried, sitting on the ground, pulling her knees up to her.

This would take some patience. I wanted nothing more than to run to her, pull her to my arms, reassure her. I wanted to look her over, make sure she was safe. The thing about those two options were, either way I would frighten her more. I needed to go slow. I needed to go at her pace if I was going to gain her trust. None the less, I was glad she had spoken. Something about me seemed to be safe enough to at least get her to break her silence.

It took about thirty minutes before she let us get her on the gurney. Another ten to get her out of her clothes and into a gown. After about an hour, she was willing to let me give her a physical exam. It took about an hour and a half before she was able to go through the sexual abuse examination. Finally, though, she was okay with me. Not the rest of the staff, but she was okay with me and the one female ER nurse who had been with me. She allowed us to clean her up and get her into a new gown. She allowed me to carry her to x-ray for a full skeletal series. We gave her some medication to sedate her enough to get her arm set and into a splint. The rest of her injuries, while complex, didn't require immediate attention. Old fractures that healed improperly were one of the main concerns. Depending on what the orthopedic consult determined, she may need further surgical intervention to not allow her growth to be halted. She allowed me to tuck her into bed on the children's floor. She was exhausted, but she was finally trusting me. A knock on the door had her jump and scrambling to pull her little legs to her chest.

"It's okay, Darling. You're okay." I assured her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you." A woman spoke calmly. The badge gave her away to me—CPS. "My name is Zoe. I'm here to help."

Rowan clung to me, fists clinched tight to my lab coat, looking at me with frightened eyes.

"It's okay, Rowan. She's safe. She won't hurt you." I assured the little girl.

"She's right, I won't do anything to hurt you. In just a few minutes, my good friend Jasmine will be here. Jasmine like the Disney Princess. She and I just have some questions for you, but that's all. No touching, no hurting, nothing. You're safe, Rowan." Zoe told her. "And…I have a little friend for you."

Zoe pulled a stuffed bunny from her bag.

"Bunny?" Rowan asked, releasing her grip a bit.

"She needed a friend, so I brought her along. Do you think you could be her friend?" Zoe asked.

Rowan nodded and reached for the pink stuffed rabbit. She held it close to her chest. Zoe spoke with Rowan calmly. She was good at her job—she was much better than the usual worker they sent. She seemed to actually know how to act and speak around a traumatized child. So did the detective, Jasmine, when she arrived.

"Should I step out?" I asked as Jasmine began asking the child questions.

"NO!" Rowan sobbed. "NO!"

"You can stay." Jasmine assured.

"Don't leave." She whimpered, looking to me. "Please, don't leave me."

"I'm here, Darling. I'm right here." I assured her, a little impressed that she was intuitive enough at four to even pick up on what my comment meant. She seemed bright.

"Rowan, what was your mommy's name?" The detective asked.

"Mommy." Rowan shrugged.

I hid a smile. Such a simple answer.

"What about your daddy? Do you know anything about him? His name?" Jasmine asked.

"Christian Grey." The child answered very matter of fact.

I felt my heart drop. Christian Grey?

"Did your mommy tell you to say that?" Jasmine asked, looking to Zoe.

"I have a picture." The little girl told them. "In my pocket."

I went over to her bag of personal belongings. I took her blood covered jeans out of the bag and pulled out a folded-up picture. Sure enough, a picture of my son was in her pocket. I studied her and felt my heart drop. She did favor Christian. Quite a bit. Her hair was a bit redder than Christian's but did look more coppery than gingery. It wasn't the hair though. It was her face. It was how he would've looked at her age as a female. I handed the picture over to the officer with shaking hands.

"Dr. Trevelyan Grey, did you know?" The officer asked.

"Of course not!" I snapped a bit defensively. If I had known, she would have never had a finger laid on her let alone the horrific abuse she had suffered. "I doubt my son knows either."

"Rowan, are you sure that's your dad? Have you met him before?" Zoe asked.

"No. Mommy said I couldn't." Rowan told them.

"This very well may be a fantasy the mother was living. She was very mentally ill." Jasmine offered up.

"No! He's my daddy!" Rowan was starting to get worked up.

I pushed aside all of my own feelings and thoughts on the matter to go to her. I needed her to stay calm. The last thing we needed was for her to get worked up and undo all the trust building we had done.

"Dr. Trevelyan Grey, a word?" Jasmine offered.

I nodded and stepped away, still in the room, but allowing Zoe to occupy the child as the detective spoke softly to me.

"Is this even possible?" She asked me quietly.

"I have no idea. My son…he would have never allowed this to happen to his child. If she is his, then he truly had no idea. I…I don't know." I shook my head.

"Often times, women who are dealing with mental health issues and addiction will fantasize of a father for their child. Perhaps Miss Williams was just wanting someone like your son to be her father. It's easy enough to get a picture of him from the internet with his status." Jasmine told me.

I thought back to that picture. It didn't seem like something that was just on the internet. It was a very casual picture of him. "Perhaps."

Before we could continue our discussion, the door opened. My eyes met my son's in an instant. Christian. He looked…completely overwhelmed. Exhausted. Sad. I wanted to go to him. To comfort him.

"Christian?" I asked.

Before he had the chance to respond, another voice spoke.

"Daddy?" Rowan asked…though it seemed almost more like a statement. She said it with confidence. "See! Daddy!"

He mumbled something, though I wasn't sure what.

"Christian, what is going on?" I asked.

"I didn't know…about her. I swear. Her mother never once told me she even suspected pregnancy." He told us, voice full of what I could only guess as betrayal.

"Mr. Grey, this little one has a picture of you and has been insisting you are her father from the moment I arrived to speak with her. I just assumed it was a mother fantasizing and lying to her about it. Do you mean to tell me you believe this to be your daughter?" Jasmine asked him.

He was still overwhelmed. He took a breath. Silence filled the room for a slightly uncomfortable amount of time.

"I know she is. My team ran a DNA analysis. That little girl, is indeed, mine." My son spoke.

I felt my heart skip a few beats. My eyes landed back on Rowan. My grandchild? The little girl I had been with was my granddaughter. How? How did we not know? Christian had such a thorough security team. He kept tabs on everything. He kept his reputation intact. How did he not know? How could we not know? If we had known…she would have been treated like a princess. Jesus Christ, how could this be happening again?

"Mr. Grey, I think we should step outside and discuss this." Jasmine told him.

"Christian, would you…should I call your father?" I asked him.

Did he need an attorney? Could they blame him?

"I have nothing to hide. I don't need dad's help. Just…don't say anything yet, Mom. To anyone." He told me as he stormed out of the room with Jasmine and Zoe.

This little girl was about to change everything.