Finding Noah (Born in Rain #2)

PROLOGUE

A BABY NAMED NOAH

Rain was only sixteen.

She was supposed to be enjoying her summer vacation, invading the mall and having sleepovers with her friends. But she didn’t have any friends anymore, or so it seemed. They hadn’t wanted to hang out with her since she’d started spending time with Seth … against her will or otherwise.

They hadn’t wanted anything to do with her since everything had changed when she skipped her period.

She hadn’t let her brain dwell much on them after they deserted her during a time when she needed someone the most, after her body started to do things it’d never done before.

They were brats, catty and selfish. Jealous, she’d told herself a time or two, though she couldn’t rationally explain why they would be jealous of the things Seth had done to her.

No, she didn’t like to think about them. But she did now, clutching her rounded belly and the secret she’d concealed inside as she doubled over in excruciating pain.

This shouldn't be happening now.

This shouldn't have happened at all.

Rain knew the baby was early. She knew he was too small, coming too soon, but, oh, the contracting pains in her womb—encouraging her to push, push, push—were unrelenting.

She had to do something, she had to tell someone, but what could she say?

What was she supposed to tell her parents when she had spent these last few months doing everything she could to protect the secret hiding within her belly?

They didn’t know about Seth. They didn’t know about what he'd done to her.

What he continued to do to her.

She wrapped her arms around her swollen midsection and wished the contractions would stop.

“Please, please, please,” she begged the kicking little thing inside of her. “Not yet. Not yet.”

Knock, knock, knock!

“Rain, sweetheart? Are you all right in there?”

It was her mother. Oh God, she was going to be so upset, so hurt, so disappointed when she learned what was going on, but what else could Rain do? She had to do or say something. She needed help. Her baby needed help.

“Mom … M-Mommy,” Rain stammered, moving slowly toward the bathroom door and hesitating only for a moment before unlocking it. “I-I need—”

A rush of liquid puddled at her feet the second her mother came into view, and it took the older woman a long, torturous beat of Rain's frenzied heart to understand what was happening.

“R-Rain … what …”

She closed her eyes and gave her head a quick shake. No. This wasn't the time to ask stupid questions. This wasn't the time to ask what had happened or when. That was for later. Right now, she needed to help her young daughter—Oh God, she’s so young.

“Okay, honey,” she said in a voice that sounded far calmer than anything she felt internally, stepping onto the wet bathroom floor with arms outstretched. “It's all right. It's going to be all right.”

“I-I-I …” Rain stuttered, wanting to tell her mom how scared, how worried, how sorry she was that this was happening to her. But no other words could fall from her lips as a contraction barreled through her small body.

Then all she could do was scream.

***

Her parents stood on either side of her as she peered through the box’s clear plastic wall in the hospital’s neonatal intensive care unit.

She could sense their silent questions whipping around her like a tornado, volatile and damaging, but she was grateful for their sense to keep them suppressed—at least for the time being.

The doctor had estimated her to be about thirty weeks pregnant when she went into preterm labor.

She had known she was pregnant, but she didn’t think it’d been that long, yet it didn’t feel long at all since Seth had pinned her down on the floor of her parents’ living room.

She had thought she’d have time to figure things out, to get rid of the evidence, but now, looking at the little baby who had resided in her belly for just shy of seven months, she wasn’t sure she could get rid of him at all.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

“You know, honey”—her dad started to speak, as if he’d just realized he still had a voice—”there are people who would love a baby. Nice people. Couples who can’t—”

“I want him,” she whispered, putting her hand against the plastic.

“Rain,” her mom replied in a tone just as quiet, just as gentle, “I think … I really think we need to talk about this. We need to consider … well—”

“You’re sixteen, sweetheart,” her father interjected, reminding her of the fact, like she’d forgotten. “You can’t be a mother.”

“But I already am,” Rain replied firmly. “He’s mine.”

He was Seth’s too. She couldn’t forget that.

But looking at this baby’s sweet little face, angelic and pure, even with the countless wires taped to various parts of his tiny body, she realized something beautiful could come from something so hideous.

When she looked at this little baby, she understood he was just as much of a victim as she was.

“Okay,” her mother said with a deep breath of resignation. “Okay. We’ll make it work. We’ll figure it out.”

Her father resumed his vow of silence, keeping his thoughts to himself, and Rain was grateful.

This was hard for him—she knew that. It was hard for all of them.

“Well, your son needs a name,” her mother stated, wrapping an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “Any ideas?”

The truth was, Rain hadn’t gotten that far in her panicked thoughts, no matter how many months had passed.

She thought she had more time. She was supposed to have more.

She was supposed to tell her parents before the baby was born.

He wasn’t supposed to spend the first weeks of his life growing inside a box.

But she was never supposed to get mixed up with Seth in the first place.

She never should’ve gone to The Pit—that clearing in the woods near the high school where kids went to get high, get drunk, and have sex.

But she had, and now, her son needed a name.

“Noah,” she said without hesitation, knowing that nothing else felt more right.

Nothing could be more him.