NO!

NO!

NO!

How could they?

My fingers freeze and I’m holding this piece of paper in an iron grip. Seething mad, idle threats escape my lips as I read the details word for hurtful word. Said minor Elsa Winters is willingly giving said child to Mark and Carla Mitchell for adoption. Reading further, I’m morbidly stricken to find out my parents got compensation for the adoption. I’m definitely going to throw up. I’m frantically trying to comprehend that they took payment for my child. The document is notarized, but no mention of a lawyer or Catholic Charities is ever mentioned. Hell, I’m not sure this thing is even legal. As I toss the papers to the floor, Micah is quick to pick them up reading them. He’s not saying one word and the fact he is dead silent terrifies me. I’d rather have him screaming or throwing my mom’s shoes. That way I’d know what he was thinking or feeling right now.

Rocking from side to side, my tears slide faster, when I hear the first sob escape Micah’s throat. How is it even possible? My parents lied to me all this time, never saying one word to me. They’ve been getting letters and pictures of a child they never wanted a thing to do with from day one. They treated me so poorly, and what’s worse is they made MONEY off of me!

Nauseated and weak I say, “They got paid twenty-five thousand dollars for my son. How the hell could they?” Dropping the last page I can’t help feeling numb.

“I’ve got no clue, but I will find out answers. They will explain themselves.” Rubbing my shoulders, Micah lets out an uneasy sigh. “While digging in your past Tyler found the name Carla Mitchell. He never found a trace that led back to Catholic Charities anywhere. I just wanted to make sure before I said a word to you.” He slowly lays his head on my back, and I understand why he would want to make sure before he said a word to me. He’d never want to upset me unless he absolutely had to.

Micah explained that he found this out right before her scheduled install appointment. It’s the reason he never asked her to find a new security company. He needed to make sure it was indeed this Carla Mitchell, who had our son. The same Carla Mitchell, who was so called friends with my parents.

What a small fucking world.

We hear a noise coming from downstairs, we go meet my parents in the kitchen their hands full of groceries.

“Well hello,” my mom says before her eyes go wide. “Oh, Micah you're here, too?”

“That I am.” He says with obvious distaste.

I’m holding my mother’s box containing the letters and photos. As her eyes focus on the box, she drops her bags of groceries. My dad curses, looking at the broken spaghetti sauce, not at what I’m holding in my hands. Taking a minute to try and regain her composure, my mother cautiously raises her eyes to see me glaring back at her. Without words, I’m mentally asking my mom how she could do this. To me, her daughter. Turning back to look at Micah, his arms are crossed, and I swear his are pressed together so tightly, they are turning white.

“Well, I see we need to talk.” My dad finally acknowledges my angry stare, now that my focus is centered on him.

“I’m all ears,” I say trembling.

“What do you know?” He asks all rational and reasonable like.

“Enough, why don’t you start from the beginning?” Both Micah and I say for a lack of better words. My dad realizes he not only needs to answer to me, he needs to answer to Micah, as well.

“Let's go and sit in the living room.” My dad says as he ushers his hand to lead the way.

My parents are on the couch looking uncomfortable. Micah, and I sit in the newly upholstered loveseat. It’s the perfect place to sit since it’s directly across from them. My leg bounces so violently, Micah has to put his hand on my knee to contain it. I never put the box down, I just hold it.

“We wanted to tell you, your mother and I. It just got too hard, and we were so disappointed in you.” My dad says with such lack of authority, he’s totally withdrawn. His words are shallow and empty.

My mom sits, crying and fidgeting with the hem of her dress. Her eyes are everywhere but on me. My dad continues to tell his story of how my aunt Peggy had a friend of a friend who was desperate to adopt a child, the only problem was the agencies said it could take years to find a suitable child. My aunt, to my utter shock, facilitated this partnership with my parents. It was never even legal. The Mitchell’s had a criminal record, so they never stood a chance at getting a child through the legal channels. Some sort of felony fraud crime that would have stopped any chance they ever had of adopting a child.

My parents overlooked that important, fine detail. I think they felt overjoyed finding a solution to my problem, no their problem. Much to their surprise Carla insisted on sending pictures and letters, letting my parents know how grateful she and her husband were.

“The money. Why the money?” I can’t wrap my head around the fact they profited from it.

“We felt they should have to pay something, and decided we could set it aside for you, Elsa. We just didn’t know how to give it to you without an explanation as to where it came from. To be honest, we thought it would be wiser to make sure he went to college, instead. The Mitchell’s don’t know this, but it’s another reason we liked being in contact with them. It’s a way to make sure we know he’s doing okay and then someday, we could help pay for his education.” My mom’s lost her mind. She’s smiling like this is good news!

“Are you serious right now?” I’m damn near left speechless, hearing this so called plan they had.

Micah’s coming unglued, the moans escaping his throat are more of a growl. “How the hell could you sell my kid and never tell Elsa any of it? You treated her so badly, yet you took the money? What kind of sick people do that?”

“Listen here boy,” My dad scowls.

“Don’t you boy me, you bastard.” Micah jumps to his feet. “You're lucky I don’t haul off and kick your ass, old man.”

“Stop! I can’t have you fighting. Tell me the rest. I want to know it all.” I’m all but yanking Micah to sit back down. If forced to, I’ll sit on his lap to keep him from mauling my dad. Well at least until I hear the rest of their story.

Over the next hour, we sat and listened to my parents explain the why’s and how’s of what took place. It was more than a shock when my mom found out Carla was using Taylor Security for her services. She knew right then and there I was going to find out the truth. The hardest part was listening to the way Carla had taken the news that the girl working for Taylor Securities was actually her child’s birth mother.

Carla took the news hard only because while she didn’t see me as a threat to her plans to seduce Micah, her baby was my and Micah’s biological child. That devastated her… and her wild fantasies.

“Are you kidding me MOM! Did you even stick up for me in your sweet talks with Carla-I-want-to-sink-my-teeth-into-Micah-Taylor? He’s with ME! And she has MY SON! Where is your loyalty to me?”

“I don’t know Elsa, I’m just telling you the truth.” Oh finally, it’s only five years too late but hey, who’s counting?

Biting my lower lip, I shake my head in disbelief. “I held him you know?” No idea why I care if she knows this, but GOD ALMIGHTY maybe if I can find a way to break into her icy cold heart, she might begin to understand how I’m feeling.

“What?” All the blood drains from her face.

“Yeah Micah held him, too. He took a liking to him during her install.” I’m taken aback, realizing we both held our son, but never had any idea. No words can describe the emotions running through my body.

“We held him El, we held our son.” As if he’s just now realizing this, his hand trembles against my shoulder.