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I knew he loved Dante with everything in him. A love he learned by watching his parents open their hearts to others. But now that I knew he was in a motorcycle club, my own prejudices ruled out over what I had learned about the young man.

I prayed that whatever Danny and Dante had gotten mixed up in, they would find a way to end the life of the woman who had caused so much damage. That was no less than she deserved. She didn’t deserve to live in a cell, having her basic needs met. Being able to socialize with other inmates.

No, she deserved to die.

I wasn’t stupid. Dante and Dani’s mother were not her only victims. I knew Dr. Scott had been a victim, as well as Dante’s brother Silas and the other three teenagers that had escaped with them, and I imagined there were countless others. The Trick Pony was an institution that had been around since at least the seventies, maybe longer.

What I didn’t understand was how so many people had stood by, knowing what was happening there, and let it continue as long as it did.

We lived in a world where people wore blinders. So many believed that if it wasn’t happening to them, it wasn’t happening at all.

All over the world, men, women, and children disappeared every day, never to be heard from again. Yet still people believed it wasn’t happening because they didn’t have any anecdotal evidence. Because they didn’t know someone it had happened to, then it must be fake news, or a conspiracy theory.

The statistics were staggering, yet not enough was done to protect the people living on this Earth. We all just wanted to live our lives in peace, and we should be able to. That was an inherent right as a human being—to be able to live our lives without fear or pain.

Unfortunately, there were many evil people living in this world with us. People who found joy in hurting others. People whose only goal in life was to hurt and control as many as they could.

Every night when Dani woke from a nightmare, I was thankful that I was the only one here to stand over her bed and watch her. If there was one thing in this life I would do, it would be to make sure this little girl never felt the fear of waking up being touched and assaulted.

She would never know the shame of having grown men and women do things to her that she couldn’t stop. Things that should never be done to a child. Or any person against their will.

As she stirred in her crib, I leaned down and gathered her in my arms. I held her gently as I sat in the rocking chair I purchased after the first day. Night after night, I rocked this little girl and comforted her fears and her loneliness caused by the absence of her fathers.

And night after night, I struggled with my own sense of abandonment and loss as I tried to steel myself against the attachment that was growing for this little girl.

Laying her back in her crib after she settled down, I sat on the couch with my head laid back. Baby monitor in my hand, I tried to sleep until she woke again.

Three strikes were all I allowed.

The third time she woke, I brought her to bed with me. We both needed the rest. Studies had shown that children who slept with their parents had better emotional regulation and lower anxiety levels compared to those who slept alone.

Other studies had proved that children who co-slept were more self-reliant and displayed more social independence as toddlers. Co-sleeping also contributed to stronger bonds formed between parents and their children.

For a little girl who was sorely neglected and never allowed to form an attachment to anyone for the first two years of her life, I was a proponent of co-sleeping. I understood the benefits a child like Dani could reap from co-sleeping. There was only one problem.

I wasn’t her mother.

I understood why Danny and Dante set things up the way they did. And if I needed to disappear with Dani, I would gladly take up that role and fulfill it with everything in me.

What worried me was what would happen to both Dani and me if her parents eventually came back. How could I let go of the little girl that had become so important in my life?

How would Dani adjust to having yet another parental figure ripped away from her?

I didn’t have answers to any of those questions, but they plagued me day and night. With every new word Dani learned to sign. With every new experience we shared together, we were building memories that would stay with me forever but might fade away from her to the point that she would never remember who I was or what she came to mean to me.

She would never know there was someone out there always on her side. Someone she could turn to who would never willingly leave her behind. Someone who loved her the way her mother would, had she been given the chance.

Dani stirred again and I rushed to her room. I wanted her to know that someone was there when she needed them. I lifted her from her crib and settled into the rocker again.

I softly sang as Dani rested her head against my shoulder. I reminded myself again that Dani wasn’t mine. That her fathers would return for her, and I needed to do my best to create a routine they could fuse into seamlessly with her.

As I listened to her cries lessen, and her breathing even out, I thought to myself, one more time I would put her down alone. One more time she would wake frightened. Then I would bring her to my bed and we would both get the rest we desperately needed.

Chapter Thirteen

Ghost

January 11, 2025, Diamond Creek, Nebraska.