We were sitting in a cold waiting room, my mother, my father, and me. It is the first time I had seen my father in months, and he looked sickly, and horrible. He was still wearing his scrubs, tired from a long day at work. We are not together, for a good reason. Harper, was missing. She was with Adrian last night, and never came home. When my mother woke up, and found her child missing she panicked. Adrian, had also not come home. So here we were, in a police station waiting room. Waiting to be spoken too. A door opened, and a man who looked about my age stepped in.

"Hi, Mr and Mrs. Vause, my name is Detective Roy. From what you told, Detective Ross your daughter Harper went missing last night?" He asked, sitting down across from us. My mother, gripped my fathers hand tightly, so tightly he winced.

"Yes, she went out with her boyfriend last night around eight, and she said she would be home around eleven, and she wasn't." My mother said. Detective Roy, was taking notes.

"Has her boyfriend been in contact?"

"No, he, he is also missing."

"Have his parents filed a missing persons report?" The Detective asked.

"I'm not sure."

"What's his name?"

"Adrian, Jacobson."

"Right, and do you have a recent photo of her?" He asked. My mother nodded, from her wallet, she pulled one of the senior photos taken of Harper at graduation. She looked, so happy. Her beautiful hair curled around her shoulders, falling in perfect ringlets. She handed it to the Detective.

"What was she last seen wearing?" He asked. My mother took a moment.

"Light wash jeans, and a white shirt, with a black scarf, chifon. She had a pink headband on too. Detective Roy sighed, setting down his notes.

"Is it within the realm of possibility she could have ran away? With this boyfriend of hers?". I blanched, my mother shook her head firmly. True, it was within the realm of possibility, but, it wasn't something Harper would do, not willingly anyway. Then, then I remembered her bloody shoulder, the rape. All of which I knew, and said nothing about. What was there to say?

At home, I dialed Adrian's number, not once, not twice, three times. It had been less than forty eight hours, and the police said they would start searching for her after that. Me for my part, I had a sinking feeling in my gut, that something was wrong, very, very wrong. Still, I bit my tongue. When she hadn't come home, my mother had done everything by the book, contacted whomever she could that might know Harper's whereabouts, she had even gone to Adrian's house, only to find no signs of life. She had tried to track her phone, only to find her location had been turned off. So, we sat there, staring sadly into our chinese takeout. My mother clutching her phone, praying that it would start ringing any minute. It didn't. My father, for his part, had called every hospital within a fifty mile radius, inquiring about a Jane Doe that fit Harpers description. There were none. As I tried to fall asleep that night, I couldn't stop my imagination from creating stories, stories in which my sister was dead, or such horrible things. I tried to block it out, but I couldn't. So, from my dresser drawer, I pulled a little white pill, and swallowed it dry. I lay there for a long while after that, it felt, like I was floating. Like I was in the middle of an ocean, waves carrying me gently. I felt peaceful, and calm, I hadn't felt that way in a long time. I fell asleep, some hour later, and woke at seven am, to the feeling of nausea. I bolted for the bathroom, staring into the toilet bowl, I felt sicker than I had in a while. My daughter, was not making it any easier for me at the moment.

In the morning, she still hadn't come home. I woke, praying to hear the shower pipes in the wall, signifying her morning shower. But the wall was silent. I tumbled out of bed, and into the hallway. I wasn't sure how late, or early it was, but the sun was blasting through windows, and Harpers door was cracked open. I opened it, hoping to find her, sitting there on her bed, reading a book, or drawing something. But her room, was empty. I entered, slowly. Her room smelled fresh, and clean, a mix of cherry blossom perfume and a floral candle. On her nightstand, there was a journal. I glanced, around a habit. I know she would hate me for doing it, but I opened the journal. It fell open to the place she had been last, her last entry.

Sometimes, things really seem how they used to to, I mean.... We went out to dinner last night, and then he drove me home. There wasn't any yelling, or anything. I half wish I could tell Mom, about it. Maybe she could give me some insight into the random bursts of anger, but I'm afraid if I do tell her, she'll make me stop seeing him. We're not close with their family, like we are with Jacob's family. I don't know what to do really. The other night, we were sitting on his bed, just talking, I had my head in his lap, and he was running fingers through my hair, then he slid his fingers into my pants. I told him I wasn't really in the mood, then he just wrapped his hand around my throat, I couldn't breathe. It went on like this for what felt like hours. When I looked in a mirror later, there was handprints around my neck. Like a cruel necklace. I feel awful, for saying this but, I am afraid of him. His outbursts scare me, how am I supposed to tell anyone that though? What will he do if he finds out?

Harper

I shut the journal. My sister's word's, still ringing in my ears. I knew, I needed to tell someone, I knew that her disappearance was not of her own free will, I knew this was all his fault, entirely so. I didn't want to imagine what he had done to her, where she was, if it was already too late. Adrian's parents, his dad anyway seemed to be gone for the time being. So, I left a note on the kitchen counter and got in my car. I was still wearing the clothes I had slept in, rumpled and messy looking, but I didn't care at all. When I got to Adrian's house, a red car was parked in the driveway. I hoped it was his mothers. I knocked, tentatively on the door.

"Yes?" A woman, said opening it. I was looking, at the spitting image of Adrian. She was tall, with long blonde hair, and piercing green eyes. Her skin seemed to be made of porcelain. She was beautiful.

"Hi, is Adrian home?" I asked, the woman shook her head then, but invited me to come inside.

"No, he hasn't been home in a few days, he was last with his girlfriend." He just never returned afterwards. She said.

"I'm Harper's sister. She didn't come home either." i stated, bluntly. I had no idea, what I was doing here, no idea what to say, to the mother of the man who so callously abused my sister, what was I to say?

"Yes, I knew you looked familiar. We haven't, filed a missing person's report yet. Alexander thinks it may be better to wait, he doesn't want to draw unnecessary attention to us." She said. I nodded

. I suppose you wouldn't want to draw attention to yourself, if you beat your wife and son whenever you were home. I studied her closer, there was something behind her eyes that seemed, beaten down, or sad. I felt bad for her, she seemed, tired.

*******************************************

At home, I took a shower in silence, I watched the water cascade over my body. Over my swollen stomach. It's then, I feel a kick, my heart swells, a smile pulls at my lips. Suddenly, a dark question flickers into my head. What must it be like, to carry a child in your body for nine months, spend years raising her, watching her grow up, and then lose her. What must it be like, to lose your child.

This, freaks me out a bit. Suddenly, I wonder what will happen when my daughter is born, I was supposed to be going to college next year, San Diego State, for nursing. But now, now I remember the plan I made with Harper, we were supposed to be leaving in three months, I am six months pregnant now, and it is getting harder to hide. I have been wearing sweatshirts, and baggy t-shirts, along with sweatpants. But, I wasn't sure what I was going to do, in a few more months, when I would be full term. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to hide this? But, I had too. Nor matter the cost, I suppose when one of your daughters is missing, you pay less attention to the other one. I can't blame her for that either, I would do the same thing if I lost my daughter. Instictively, I lay a hand over my stomach. Sighing. I thought, maybe if I ignored the pregnancy for long enough It would all go away. But it hasn't, and now I have accepted I'm past the point of being able to do anything. I thought, I would be hateful and resentful towards this child, but I'm not. Because, nor matter what sin her conception happened from, she's still me. Then I remember, she is also Will. She is part him, part me. Yet, he still doesn't know.

Why should he anyway? Does a few wild nights give someone the right to be a father? Does that even mean he would be a good one? Does the fact that we were once, lovers make it so we need to be tied to each other for the next eighteen years. I am not farmiliar with addicts, for good reason. But I assume, there are setbacks, I would not want an infant around a man who's sobriety is a struggle. Maybe, that makes me a hypocrit, perhaps no judge would see me as a fit parent either, but what am I supposed to do. I think, if I were him, I would want me to stay away too. I have not, and will not, bring him into a mess he should not be a part of.

I step out of the shower, still deep in thought. In the mirror, I realize how pregnant I do look. I suppose, if you have been pregnant before you will understand that morning sickness, really just means all day sickness. And that cravings are weird. You will also understand the strange feeling that washes through your body when your child get's the hiccups, while inside of you. There are times, I wish this pregnancy was celebrated, not hidden from the world. Where I could have a baby shower, and look over baby clothes with my mother, not secretly buy things online and take naked mirror pics to show off the bump progression. I guess, we all have dreams that will never be met.

Harper and I did not get far enough in our planning to discuss, what we do after we left. What would happen, when my daughter got to the age she began asking about her father, or her grandparents. I never realized, leaving Salt Lake behind, also meant leaving my family behind. But now, with Harper gone, the idea of leaving without her, is like a knife being twisted in my back. I cannot, go through an already painful experience, without her, can I? I realize, I can though, for the sake of the daughter I will bring into this world in just a few short months time. It would all, in the end be for her. Someone I had never met, yet was a part of me, a part of my body. Once she was born though, I would no longer have her all to myself. No, I would then worry more about violence, and making ends meet, to provide stability. I was not sure, how I would ever manage, but I had a baby, who I would meet someday, sooner than I'd like.