I couldn’t cry at first. I was in shock. It was when I looked down at her tiny face, and she looked like she was only sleeping, laying so peacefully...in my arms did I crack. I started to cry, which I think relieved everyone, but then I couldn’t stop crying. I was crying for Rebekka Rose, I was crying for the father she never knew, and the man who never had the chance to be a father, I was crying for me and I was crying because I didn’t know how not too anymore. After I while I just became too. “How old are you again?”“I doubt the woman looking for sex slaves is going to call the cops about underage drinking.” Strength fills her voice, and she looks up at me, smiling. Relief floods my body, and my shoulders release. I didn’t know I was clenching them. I smile back at her and reach for a bottle of white wine in the fridge. I raise it to her, and she nods. I pour us both a glass and sit back down next to her.“Thanks.”“No problem,” I say. “How are you doing?”“It’s a lot to. More

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