little miss," I said. "How come you're not sleeping?"
"We're working on it," Carson said. Then he leaned in and whispered, "I was telling her this really good story about a girl I fell in love with once upon a time between the twenty-first and twenty-second floor."
"Ah…" I said, looking at our daughter, "no wonder you wanted to stay up for that one. That's a really great story." I touched her nose with my pointer finger gently and she gave me a gummy smile, her hazel eyes lighting up at the attention, that small dimple that I loved so much popping out to the left of her lower lip.
"Yeah," he said, smiling gently, "it really is."
"I hope it was the PG version," I said, winking at him.
He chuckled softly, his eyes warm.
"Hey sis, are you helping in here or what?" Julia called from the kitchen. She and Evan were on mashed potato duty and as I listened to the bangs and soft swears coming from the kitchen, I raised one eyebrow. "Sounds like it's getting serious in there. I better go. Sleep well, baby girl," I said, kissing her again and smiling at Carson as he turned to bring her back to the extra room where we had a crib set up.
As I moved toward the kitchen, I turned my head to watch them walk away. My husband and our daughter. There are many soul-stirring things in this world, but not many as profound as watching the beautiful man you love holding the baby you created together. No, not many.
Carson
I held my baby daughter in my arms, rocking her in the big, upholstered rocking chair in the guest room, loving her so intensely that it felt like a tangible thing. I put my nose to her head and breathed in the sweet smell of her. I would do anything to protect her, to keep her safe, to make sure she always felt loved.
I had made it my life's work to rescue women from suffering, and most of the time, I felt steady and competent in the part I played in that endeavor. But when it came to the lifelong job of protecting the one small girl in my arms, my heart squeezed in fear. I supposed that was as it should be.
As my daughter snuggled into me, and her eyes started to flutter closed, I let my mind wander…
Once upon a time, someone had held Ara in their arms like this. Once upon a time someone had held each little girl just like this. And if they didn't, they should have. I closed my eyes, rocking, rocking… my little girl exhaling her sweet baby breath, her tiny, chubby hand fisting my t-shirt.
I wanted her to be proud of me. I wanted her to see how I loved and worshipped her mother, and want nothing less than that for herself one day. To be loved completely, body, heart and soul.
Someday, I would have to have a very difficult conversation with her about the choices I had made before I knew better. I cringed with the thought, but the fact of the matter was, the Internet is forever, and it would be better that she hear it from me.
I thought about who I was when I first met Grace, all the ways in which I defined myself back then. Sometimes, you don't even realize anything is wrong until someone comes along and changes you, and makes you want more. In my case, it was a beautiful girl with a plan who shattered the world I thought I knew. And when I put the pieces back together, they were all rearranged, different; and so was I. Until her, I had never even considered the possibilities.
In life, there are those who save us, both in big ways and in small. Sometimes that means being set free from a dark, windowless room, or being pulled out of a burning building. More often, it means being saved from yourself, and made to finally believe that letting someone love you, isn't just a big lie that you're unwilling to tell.
Grace had saved me by calling my bluff, and then listening to the secrets I believed made me unlovable, with acceptance in her eyes. The gift she gave me was her glow–and it shined for me so brightly, that my own darkness disappeared.
I kissed our daughter again, now sleeping peacefully on my chest, lost in her own world of dreams, safe and loved in my arms.
This story is a work of fiction, but human trafficking (also known as modern-day slavery), is very real. For more information and ways you can help, visit:
www.fbi.gov/about-us/
investigate/civilrights/human_trafficking
www.humantrafficking.org
Special, special thanks from the bottom of my heart, once again, to my Executive Editing Committee, Angela Smith and Larissa Kahle. This time around, I was also lucky enough to have an amazing group of beta readers who were not only tough, but were thoughtful and connected to Grace and Carson's story, and gave invaluable advice and commentary; Elena Eckmeyer, Karleigh Lewis-Brewster, Kim Parr, Nikki Larazo and Stacey Price – endless love and thanks! Gratitude, as always, to my family for putting up with me through this process, and to my amazing husband for picking up the slack around our house with an endless amount of patience. I am so lucky to have you.
Mia Sheridan lives in Cincinnati, Ohio with her husband who is a police officer and her biggest fan (not necessarily in that order). They have four children here on earth and one in heaven. When she isn’t writing or reading romance novels, she enjoys anything creative from building a patio, to sewing pillows. In addition to Stinger, Leo and Leo's Chance are also part of the Sign of Love series. Mia can be found online at www.MiaSheridan.com or www.facebook.com/miasheridanauthor.
