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Copyright © 2000 by Vicki Allen
All rights reserved
Prologue
It was happening again: The bright lights, the frantic bustle of activity, the guttural screams of a young girl. Amid the shadowy figures and muffled voices, the girl thrashed and moaned, desperately clutching the cold metal rails on either side of her. She didn't think she could endure much more. She grabbed the hand of a passing figure, her voice hoarse as she shrieked in pain. “Please, please, make it stop! Please.” The torture seemed to last forever.
At last, it was over. A baby came into the world, kicking and screaming, her terrified cry like sweet music to the girl's ears. She fell back against the bed, an exhausted smile on her face, accepting the baby with ready arms. “My baby,” whispered the girl, gazing down at her with tender eyes.
She was beautiful - a perfectly shaped little face, pink cheeks, rosebud lips. What mother could ask for more? The girl stroked the baby's cheek. She cradled her close and pressed her lips to her soft skin, gently whispering her name. “If only your father could see you,” she said.
A figure in white appeared next to her, looking down with a frown.
“It's time,” she said, reaching for the child.
“Please,” protested the girl, holding the baby tight. “Just a few more minutes.”
“No. It's time.” She ripped the baby from the girl's arms, ignoring her tears, and darted swiftly to the door.
“No!” The girl let out an anguished wail, lunging weakly for the side of the bed, only to be stopped by another set of hands. “No!” she screamed. “Don't take my baby! SHANNON!”
The woman awoke with a start, cold beads of perspiration standing on her brow and upper lip. Trembling, she looked around the room, running a nervous hand through her hair as she tried to figure out what had happened. Then she remembered.
“The dream again,” she moaned, pulling her knees protectively into her chest. “Will it ever go away?”
She'd heard that time heals all wounds, but she didn't believe it. Time had not healed her wounds, nor had it taken away her pain. She lay back against her pillows, miserable tears streaming down her face while memories stabbed cruelly at her heart.
She had never recovered, nor would she ever be the same. Years had passed with little reprieve. Her soul still ached as though it had been only yesterday. She would never again be content until she found Shannon.
On
to Chapter One