**italicized words= foreign language, sounds or thoughts

Mystery POV

She has been missing for sixteen years. Sixteen years and I still haven't found my baby. Those filthy Russians took her when she was just 3 months old.

They took my twins, but I got them back.

Now, I just need to get her.

I spoke on the phone with the stupid Russian leader, Sergei.

"I have one of my men with her. She's not with me. But you can get her by giving all your shipments to us," he tries to negotiate.

"Son of a b!tch! Give me my daughter! I know you would just take my sh!t without her. She's a child Marco!"

"Then you will give me what I want. Here's a hint: she's closer than you think. When the time is right you'll meet her, then we will see what you do, my friend."

"Asshole!"

I end the call and look to my right.

"It's the anniversary day," my eldest son tells me, "I miss her."

"Me too," says his twin sister.

I'm going to kill those fuckers.

You would think that being an Italian Mafia leader would make it easier to find my daughter but every time we get close, she is on to the next place.

I just want my daughter back.

Aubrey Valentina

I hate thinking of the past. I just want to move on but I can't do that until I find the Romano family, then I'll get answers—well if there is even anything to know.

I've been in California for a week now and haven't found anything. I would ask someone but I can just be like 'I've been abused my whole life and need to find my biological family, well if they even exist. Oh and I don't even have proof I was kidnapped.' The last thing I want is to be put into a group home or be into a family who doesn't give me any freedom.

Sadly, it doesn't just work like that.

Trust me, I rather endure all this bs because at least I get some freedom. They are almost never home.

It's the weekend and I have no choice but to stay home. Barbara and Anderson have been barely here because all they do is drink, get high and party. When they come home it's only for a few hours before they go and hit up the next bar.

I've tried my best to keep the house clean but they come to the house and trash it. And I can't do anything about it.

"Little bitch where are you?" Anderson yells from upstairs.

I clean up the rest of the things in the basement before walking up the stairs.

"Yes sir."

"Ah there you are. Why haven't you cooked me dinner?" He slurred.

"I didn't know you'd be home. And we don't really have anything to eat. I've been living off of snack foods, sir," I replied.

"Shut your trap," I flinched, "I never asked you to talk back to me! Come here," he yelled as he grabs my almost fully healed arm. He definitely reopened that wound.

"You are gonna be punished," he smiled.

I've learned not to say no anymore. If I do, it will result in more pain. He lights up his cigar and takes a puff out of it, blowing smoke into my eyes.

My eyes burn in pain and I start coughing, trying to get the smoke out of my lungs but then Anderson takes his lit cigar and presses the burning end on my cold, pale skin. I whimper in pain even though I've gotten used to this feeling. It's almost numbing at this point.

"Now go, leave me alone."

"Yes sir." I say without any emotion.

I go to the basement and lay on the damp, cold floor.

Nothing is ever going to change.

——————————————

The next day I cover up the burns with a black infinity scarf. It's not the most on-trend thing but I could care less. Under I have a white shirt and the denim jacket Maia gave me. I put on my black leggings and my dirty converses.

I've noticed that everyone at school lives close by or has a ride. I am so car sick that I could never sit in the bus. Well that's the excuse I like to make myself feel better.

4 years ago:
It was seventh grade. It was June, the last week of school. It was at least eighty five degrees Fahrenheit. I was on the school bus after a long day of school.

My thighs stuck to the pleather seats. I had a headache and my allergies had my eyes puffy and my nose runny. My stomach was hurting, and I had never felt a pain like it before.

It was sharp, and constant.

I was sitting by a random girl. She had the window seat and I was on the edge. The bust was overcrowded, some were even three to a bench. How was this allowed?

I was two stops from my neighborhood. My hoodie cling to my sweaty skin, my right leg was bouncing up and down. I just wanted to get to my house.

Someone from behind clicked my head.

I ignored it.

Then, it happens again.

"Hey, what's your name? You never talk," says a classmate, Herbert . I hope you are judging that name just as much as I am.

I say nothing. The bus stops at my stop and I stand up. My vision is kinda fuzzy. 

Maybe I got up too fast?

I hear someone whisper "Do it, now."

Out of nowhere, someone punched me in my abdomen. I immediately hurl all of my stomach contents to that person.

It was Nadya, my bully.

Serves her right.

As she screams in disgust, someone then punches me in the nose.

The old bus driver doesn't even realize what is happening since there are so many kids standing up, walking out of the bus.

They pull me down and the bus driver closes the door and drives to the next stop. I am struggling to get out of this chokehold someone has me in.

By the time they let me go, I was left to walk two miles home.

I never went back to the school.

I snap out of my day dream. Anyway, I'm the only one who happens to live on the other side of town. It has gotten colder as the days go by and it's harder to keep warm, especially without a winter coat. I haven't had one since I was eleven.

In the past week I haven't found out anything about the Romano's. I don't even know if they are in this state! It is so hard to find anything with a faulty, decade-old laptop.

Otherwise school is fine and Tyler and I have talked a few times.

"What's the date Aubrey?" Tyler asked during Chemistry.

"It's October 24th."

"Thanks. Another question; What are you doing after school?"

I thought about it, remembering I told Barbara I'd wash her clothes. "I've got to go home to my parents."

He nodded. "Maybe we can hang sometime?"

"Yea. Maybe."

That was yesterday. I also haven't found out about those two girls. Apparently, Isabella switched to online school so she could finish high school quicker and get into a fashion school. At least that's what Maia said. Antonio has been rude to me but occasionally keeps his distance.

I finally make it to the school, just in time for my first class. That reminds me, I bought one of those paternity and maternity tests. I should be getting the results after school.

I sit down in the middle row of the English class. Antonio and his friend Max walk by me. One of them takes my notebook and the other grabs my hand to take my pencil but backs away.

"Why are your hands so freakin cold?" Max yells.

"I walked?" I answered hesitantly.

"How far did you walk?" Tyler asks, sounding quite concerned.

"Just a few streets." I lie.

"You look really cold so maybe you should get a ride from someone next time," Max says before giving me back my pencil and sitting down.

"I could give you a ride," Tyler swoops in.

"It's not that big of a deal."

"Please. You come to school everyday shivering you must've had to walk really far," he states.

"But I'm used to shivering," I mumble to myself.

"What?"

Dammit he heard me. "Nothing. Fine but my house is nothing special."

"That's fine. Just let me know the address," he answers before looking to the front of the board.

Mrs. Stevens was telling us how to write a proper college essay. But I probably wouldn't ever go so I zoned out thinking about all the other possible lives I could have.

Maybe I'd be happy?

I would get hugs from my mom and have siblings who cared for me.

I could have fun with friends and eat when I wanted.

I don't think I'll ever find out who I could have been. I'll just have to deal with my life now, and hope the Romano's were my parents.

If they aren't I'll be free by the time I'm eighteen.