Chapter 1

I was unwed, unemployed, and squatting in the Kahale mansion when a white stick announced my pregnancy. Weeks earlier, without a word, Benny moved out of his own bedroom, fleeing into the opposite wing of his family estate. He left me to break up with myself, then disappear from his life as quickly and quietly as possible. Believe me, if I had any options, I would have obliged, but I had no money, no education and as far as I can tell, no sense. 

Initially, it seemed reasonable I could live in that room avoiding detection for years, decades even, considering only two other people lived in the football field sized structure—Benny's sister Sophie and his father Maui. I spotted them in the wild only twice in the six months I was with Benny. But the reality of living unwanted and unneeded was harder than it looked.

Every night at 2AM, I launched a covert operation, sneaking behind walls and holding my breath to navigate the darkness from the second floor to the marble kitchen. My plan was to gather food to enjoy at my leisure under the tent of the comforter, but by the time I reached the refrigerator, hunger pangs dulled my senses, and I couldn't stop myself from standing over the sink cramming food into my mouth, only chewing enough to swallow, like a dumpster raccoon.

Exhausted by the erratic feedings and sleep, I was in a daze, often feeling nauseous, sometimes vomiting in the morning. If I weren't busy trying to survive, anxiety and dread filling up every minute, I might have guessed at the obvious—I was pregnant, and this rich Hawaiian family wouldn't help me, according to my mother.

"People like that. They'll pay to make you go away–you and that baby."

"You think they'll pay me enough money for a flight home?"

"Oh, you're just as dumb as your father. That baby's worth a lot of money, girl. At least ten, twenty thousand. Worth more dead, if you know what I mean."

"No, what do you mean?"

"If you have the baby, they always gotta think you're coming back with your hand out, but if you negotiate to get rid of it, they might give you double the money. It's better for them, see?"

"Can I come home if I can get thirty?"

"Stop it with that. Eventually, you need to make it on your own, and with thirty, you can probably buy a trailer on the beach or something. Why come back here," my mother asked, baffled by me wanting the comforts of the only life I had known.

It's just a shack in Eastern Connecticut, but it was home to me. My mother, father and four brothers were mean and violent, but they were my family. I don't like them, and I don't love them, but they're all I had. And my mother was right—we're too poor to be proud. I hatched a proposal for an exchange: end my pregnancy for cash. I'll ask for forty thousand and a plane ticket. My mother couldn't say no to forty. I'd get my job back at the bar. Nick was probably still sore, but I'd beg, and the customers would be behind me, if I begged them too. With their support, Nick would have to hire me again, given the limited number of suckers willing to conduct the important business of day drinking at Nick's bar. 

I rehearsed the pitch dozens of times. It sounded ridiculous even during the rehearsals in the mirror, and when I got in front of Benny, I couldn't remember anything. I only blurted, "I'm pregnant." The complex scheme of getting paid crumbled, lying in an irretrievable heap, along with my future. But Benny and the Kahales were not the shack-dwelling Browns, and their reaction to my pregnancy was so unexpected it frightened me. 

Benny, thrilled with the news, proposed to me within minutes. I assumed the Kahales would oppose the union, but they insisted on a wedding at once. It was beautiful—I wore a white dress, Benny wore a suit, and Sophie threw pink rose petals as I walked down the prepared path in the Kahale Estate's biggest garden. 

In my mother's view, an unwed pregnancy was the worst calamity imaginable, her entire paychecks going straight into screaming children's mouths. Back home, there was nothing cheaper than teenage fertility, but my pregnancy was a miracle to the Kahales. Just for carrying around a baby, I had free rein to a mansion resembling the White House, containing bedrooms bigger than my family shack, a cleaning staff that disallowed dust, and a full-time chef catering to my every desire. Under these circumstances, pregnancy was easy. Of course, I expected the other shoe to drop, and I assumed it would be me in an early grave, but until then, I'd live it up for once. A fair exchange, I'd say.  

By the third trimester, I settled into a first-floor bedroom, a sprawling salon decorated in a style that made me think of French royalty, full of unnecessary gold embellishments that made everything feel uncomfortable and uninviting. I chose it for the four-poster bed, a beautiful, spacious, luxurious spot to sleep that was worth any price.

I spent most of my time perched on the soft mattress, the wrap-around curtains drawn, leaving a gap through which an endless parade of pregnant cravings passed—cookies, ice cream, pickles, burgers, oozing cheese and jars of peanut butter.

The staff came often to make sure I hadn't gnawed off my hand, mistaking it for pork roast. Nobody knocked or announced their presence. So, the soft tap at the door sent chills up my spine. I knew it was nothing good. I held my breath, feigning death, hoping the misfortune overlook me, but another knock followed, louder, more impatient. 

"Elaine? It's Benny. Can I come in?"

I stayed silent, but without knocking again, he entered, switching off the TV, folding his long skinny legs in front of me on the bed, making him impossible to ignore.

Countless secrets surfaced in my mind; one was sure to cause the catastrophe he came to reveal. I couldn't help but sob, covering my eyes to avoid his judgmental stare. He pulled my hands off my face and caressed them. To my surprise, his expression showed tender concern. Hope flooded my thoughts. Something must have happened, something unrelated to my transgressions. Was it news from home? Maybe my mother was dead. Please let it be that my mother died. Please let that be it. Let it be my whole family perished in a horrible accident. I always envisioned their shack going up in flames, trapping them inside. Let it be that.

"Elaine, let me ask you something. Do you enjoy your life here, in the mansion?"

Growing up dirt poor in a small town, where everyone was aware of our poverty, I learned the signs of condescension. In fact, I don't remember anyone speaking to me like a human being. But at least back home, they didn't pretend their cruelty was caring. 

"You know I love it here," I said, the day's feast churning in my stomach.

"And everyone loves having you here, everyone, including Sophie. But… Well… There's something you need to know, and you have to promise me you will never tell anyone, ever."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. If I can't repeat it, I don't want to hear it."

"I wish you could stay ignorant, but it's time for you to hear the truth. In a way, it means you're a bona fide Kahale. Nobody outside the family knows—nobody."

He only married me because I was pregnant, but he had married me. He was my husband, the Kahales, my family. They were unknown to me, but already, I liked them better than the Browns. Still, it wasn't in my training or nature to get involved, too poor for curiosity. 

"Ever wonder how Maui amassed this fortune," he asked, searching my face for a response.

"No," I said, and meant it. 

Why did it matter where Maui got his money? He was nice to me, and unlike the rest of the family, he was warm and welcoming. My mother's words pulsed through me: keep your head down, don't ask questions.

"I just don't care," I said.

"Elaine, listen to me. This affects all of us—you, me and our child. And you should not only care but pay close attention—our lives depend on it."