Chapter 1
JIYA
“Would you like anything else?” the man asked. His blue eyes sparkled on his kind face.
“No, thank you,” I said, glancing at his name tag, which read Jack.
“So, you work over at the hotel?” he asked, squinting and reading my name tag. “Jiya.”
For an instant, my head jerked back before I caught myself and nodded.
Hearing my birth name spoken aloud still startled me.
Even though it was printed clearly on my uniform and I had chosen to reclaim it, the sound of it sometimes felt unfamiliar, almost like it belonged to someone else—someone I used to be before my life had unravelled and rebuilt itself into something entirely different.
At the same time, there was something liberating about hearing it again.
Slowly, I was learning to answer to it without flinching.
I had escaped my past. I had fought my way out of the darkness that had defined so many years of my life.
Yet my present still made me doubt myself.
The reality of being a single, pregnant mother weighed heavily on my mind, and there were moments when the uncertainty crept in quietly, whispering questions I could never quite silence.
Would I truly be able to build a stable life for my children?
Would this new beginning hold, or would something else tear it apart?
Sitting in the Tipsy Cow restaurant for the second time in a week, I watched Lucas happily munch on his pasta. His small shoulders bounced slightly with every enthusiastic bite, and the innocent normalcy of the moment made something warm settle inside my chest.
As I watched him, my thoughts drifted to how drastically my life had changed in only a matter of months.
A week after being discharged from the hospital, my entire world had shifted from one city to another.
Packers and movers had emptied my apartment in four hours and transported everything into the new house as if my former life had simply been folded neatly into boxes and relocated.
Even my identity had changed. The name tag on my uniform now read Jiya Flores instead of Nyah Rodriguez.
My location had changed from the vibrant, busy streets of Downtown Vancouver to a quiet seaside village on Vancouver Island called Cowichan Bay.
I was no longer the General Manager of the Lexington Hotel.
Instead, I now worked as a front desk agent at the Cowichan Bay Ocean Hotel.
The title was smaller. The responsibilities were smaller. But the peace was bigger.
Jeremy Lipster—my stalker and foster father—was no longer in the picture. I was free and no longer lived in constant fear.
At least that was what I told myself.
Yet hearing my birth name called after eight long years still made my body shudder as memories surfaced, whether I wanted them to or not.
Outside, the rain poured down heavily. The wind lashed sheets of water against the restaurant windows while branches bent under the force of the storm. Lightning flashed across the sky, briefly illuminating the dark clouds before thunder rolled loudly enough to make the glass tremble.
I found myself staring at the storm. There was something familiar about its intensity. Relentless. Unforgiving. The way my life had felt for so many years.
“That’s going to be $21.79, dear,” Jack said, pulling me gently back from my thoughts.
I opened my wallet, searched for the money, slipped $25 into the billfold, and pushed it toward him. Then I stood and helped Lucas into his raincoat while glancing around the restaurant.
A man sat at the corner table drinking his beer. At first glance, there was nothing particularly remarkable about him. His shabby, unkempt clothes blended easily into the casual atmosphere of the restaurant, and his dark beard looked as though it had not seen a razor in days.
Still, something about him caught my attention. Perhaps it was the way he sat too still, his shoulders slightly hunched forward as if he were listening carefully to everything around him. Or perhaps it was simply instinct.
After everything I had lived through, my instincts rarely ignored small details anymore.
“You’re new here?” Jack asked while handing over the change in the billfold.
I nodded.
He smiled warmly. “I’m Jack Bortelini. Nice to meet you both.”
Towering over me, he had greeted Lucas and me with the same warm smile when we had first entered the restaurant earlier, completely drenched from the rain.
Lucas opened his mouth, ready to speak.
I gently nudged him and quickly shushed him before he could say anything.
He looked up at me with mild confusion but obeyed, closing his mouth again.
I thanked Jack and took Lucas’s hand as we began leaving the restaurant.
As we passed the tables, I felt it.
That sensation of being watched.
The gruff man in the corner stared directly at us. His eyes were narrowed slightly as he followed Lucas and me with quiet intensity. Something about the look lingered just a moment too long, sending a faint ripple of unease through my chest.
Without thinking, I slipped my right hand into my coat pocket while tightening my grip on Lucas’s hand with the other and hurried out into the rain.
While driving home, I glanced at Lucas through the rear-view mirror.
He sat quietly in the back seat, watching the rain trace crooked paths down the window.
Guilt lodged deep beneath my sternum. It had been quietly following me ever since our lives had changed.
“I’m so sorry for everything, Lucas,” I said softly.
The consequences of my actions were now part of his life, even though none of it was his fault. He was still so young and could not fully understand what had happened or why we had left everything behind. The realization pressed painfully against my heart.
“I hope you are happy here.”
For a brief moment, Caleb’s face flashed in my mind, and I pushed the thought away almost immediately. Some memories were too miserable to linger on… especially the ones that still had the power to make my heart hurt.
Lucas looked at me through the mirror and smiled. “I am, Mama. I promise you, I am.”
Seven years old, and already so mature for his age. A rush of love filled my chest as I looked at him.
Children had a remarkable ability to adapt. Lucas’s resilience gave me hope that perhaps this new life might eventually feel normal for both of us.
I pulled into the driveway, and we hopped out of the car.
From inside the house, Oreo’s excited barking echoed loudly as soon as he realized we had arrived home.
The weekend passed quickly as I focused on household chores, attending church, and participating in some of the village’s activities.
Each weekend seemed to bring something new.
That weekend, there was a small fair in the village square.
Lucas went on ride after ride, laughing so loudly that people nearby turned to smile at him. He even won a stuffed toy after successfully tossing rings over a row of bottles.
When we returned home, he carefully placed Winnie the Pooh beside his collection of stuffed animals in his room. His face glowed with pride as he admired the growing lineup.
On Sunday evening, Lucas and I curled up on the couch to watch a movie together.
At one point, he rested his head against my belly. Suddenly, he jerked upright with a startled shriek. “Whoa, Mama! Did you feel that?” he asked, his eyes wide with amazement.
“Yes, I did,” I said gently. “That’s your baby sister, Emma. She’s strong, isn’t she?”
He nodded enthusiastically. “Is she hurting you, Mama?” he asked innocently.
My heart softened at his concern. “No, sweetheart,” I reassured him. “She’s not hurting me. She’s just letting us know she’s here too… and she can’t wait to see us.”
“I can’t wait to meet her, too, Mama,” he said, squealing.
I smiled at his excitement, but as my hand rested over my belly, a thought slipped through my mind before I could stop it.
He should have been here for this.
Caleb would have loved this moment. He would have laughed with Lucas and probably insisted that the baby was already strong enough to play soccer.
The thought lingered for only a second before I gently pushed it aside.
That life belonged to another version of me.
Another time.
We watched the rest of the movie until Lucas slowly drifted off to sleep beside me.
After turning on the house alarm, I walked through the house, checking the front and back doors. Even though I knew Jeremy was gone and the danger was supposed to be over, the years I had spent living in fear had carved those habits deeply into my bones.
Caution had become second nature.
When I’d escaped from him years ago after he’d murdered his wife, I had believed I’d finally left that nightmare behind.
But the past had a way of resurfacing.
Jeremy had returned recently, kidnapping his nieces and nearly killing Caleb and me.
Even now, there were nights when I woke from dreams where he was still alive. Still searching. Still coming for me. Still coming for Lucas. Those fears might never fully disappear. But surviving everything had also made me stronger. More determined. More protective.
I carefully lifted Lucas from the couch and carried him upstairs. After tucking him into bed, I quietly entered my bedroom.
My phone lay on the nightstand, and I checked my emails and messages again.
Nothing.
Still no new information about my mother.
Now that I was pregnant, finding her felt more important than ever.
Then I opened my contacts list and stared at Elle’s name on the screen for several long seconds before finally pressing the call button.
She answered on the second ring.
“Jiji?” Her voice carried the same comfort and strength that had comforted me so many times before. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” I said softly. “Just checking in.”
There was a brief pause, the kind that told me she wanted to ask more but was holding herself back.
“I think about you often,” she said gently. “About you and Lucas.”
I felt an emotional knot, preventing me from speaking. “We’re doing well,” I replied. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“You can call me anytime,” Elle said. “No matter what.”
“I know,” I whispered.
We spoke for a few more minutes about simple things—the weather, Lucas, the village—careful, ordinary conversation that revealed nothing important. When the call ended, I sat quietly, holding the phone in my hand.
I missed Elle terribly. I missed Donna too, but I had made the difficult decision to stay in contact only with Elle. The fewer people I interacted with from my past, the easier it would be for me to move forward with my life.
Eventually, I lay down, exhaustion settling over me. Just before sleep claimed me, I reached beneath my pillow and pulled out the photo frame I kept hidden there.
It was a picture of Caleb and me at the New Year’s dance.
Memories of that night filled my mind—the feel of his hand in mine, the quiet promises we had believed would last forever.
I traced Caleb’s face in the photograph with my thumb.
My chest tightened as I studied the familiar lines of his face.
I stared at the photograph for a long time and then stroked my belly.
Emma—a name chosen by her father, the only gift he would ever give her without knowing it.
Some promises were meant to last forever… but ours had shattered long before we ever had the chance to keep them. And whether fate intended it or not, a small part of my heart would always belong to him.