Finding Abel

Chapter 1. The Beginning

A year ago my life changed forever, I was the wife of a behavioral analyst for the FBI, while being a retired agent myself. I had decided on early retirement for the future family that my husband and I were planning to have. We thought that the demands of the job were too heavy for both parents to be away and thought that our future children would benefit from having one of us around full time. We had been trying for children for years with no luck, and after I suffered multiple miscarriages we opted for adoption instead.

I was extremely excited about the prospects of becoming parents and I began nesting for my potential child straight away. My husband, Denis, was extremely supportive and was fully engaged in the process. However, days after receiving word about a baby boy my husband suffered a horrific death while on the job. I was devastated and completely floored about what to do next, but when I met my son everything changed. I was worried that the agency would change its mind due to my husband's recent death, but thankfully I was still accepted as a candidate.

From what I was told about the child, he was to be called Abel at the request of his father. A woman by the name of Maureen Ashby was the one to deliver my son to me and told me that it was imperative that he kept his name. To be honest, Abel's adoption process was tricky and strange. As a former FBI agent, some of his documents didn't seem to add up to me and I phoned some of my connections to look into it. But fortunately, there was no missing persons report on my son, so I just let it go.

Abel was about to be two years old when he came to me, twenty-two months to be exact. He suffered a heart condition according to his pediatrician and was likely born prematurely due to an existing drug problem. I was able to accommodate our life together perfectly due to my husband's pension that was released in full to me and the money I had built up through time.

I adopted my second son, Henry, by a matter of a miracle. I was taking a cross-country ride with Abel, the same ride that my husband and I vowed to take as a family. But then, while stopping at a grocery store in Indiana, Abel managed to hurt his finger with the door. I was being overdramatic but I was a new mother it was understandable. We were in the pediatric ward when I saw the place crawling with cops. They were obviously looking for someone but seemed to have no luck with their search. I finally got the nerve and used my former job title to get some information from a female officer.

She let me know that they were looking for a woman by the name of Rita Zambell who had a warrant out for her arrest. Apparently, Rita was in trouble for arson and the only reason they managed to know about her whereabouts now was because she put her real name on her newborn son's birth certificate. They managed to find her hiding in a supply closet while holding the infant close to her chest. His crying gave her away and they were harshly separated. The sight of her screaming became too unbearable to just stand by idly and watch. I urged them to be careful with her and her son and this caught Rita's attention.

She stared at me for a moment before looking over at my son. Abel was sitting in his stroller while she eyeballed him. "Abel?" she said in utter shock. I was confused about how she knew his name, but the officers were trying to drag her away. "Wait! I want to sign my rights to her!" I was completely stunned and confused by her declaration. I didn't even know this woman but somehow she mysteriously knew my son. She saw my hesitation and started to plead with me that she had no one to look out for him while she went inside. I was having a tug of war with myself until I looked at one of the officers trying to calm the infant. I had no doubt in my mind that this baby would be just fine with another family, but that family wouldn't bring her the peace she needed at that moment so I signed for him. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision that caused me to spend a week in Indiana. I visited her frequently after trying to get some answers on how she knew Abel, she at least owed me that. She told me that Abel came from a family of bikers and that his father's name was Jax Teller. She let me know as much as she could about her world and how she came to be in it. And she talked to me about Henry's biological father, a man named Edward who went by the name Half-Sack, who was conveniently in the same biker gang.

I contemplated what to do with this information and I tried to do the right thing for Abel. But when I was trying to fish out his father I realized that he was in prison. Facing up to fifteen years for gun charges, Abel's mother was in rehab for heroin addiction. The same addiction that almost killed him. I wanted to do the right thing but the more I dug into the family, the more I hesitated. I talked with a lawyer and tried to find out where to go from here. His suggestion, along with everyone else's, was to keep him, especially considering that no one had put out an amber alert or a missing child's report for him.

I wanted to do that but my conscious wouldn't allow me so I contacted the mother. Wendy Case had no idea that her son had been abducted, it was like she was completely cut off from any contact with the family. She had managed to hear about her ex-husband's arrest and went on an angry tirade against her former family. She repeatedly told me that not a single person even bothered to check up on her let alone tell her that her child had been kidnapped. She explained to me that Abel's father's life was a mess and that no child should have to grow up in it. So, out of her sober hatred, she signed her rights over to me. It was not the outcome I expected but one I appreciated. I continuously try to include Wendy in Abel's life through pictures and videos, while she sought to get clean for herself.

All that happened in a span of fourteen months. I now have a three-year-old and a one-year-old and they are the loves of my life. Children are so innocent with how they see things in the world, and to them, I am 'mommy.' They don't care about our differences or how the world may view us, they only care that I am there for them always. And I will be there for them no matter what.

But now, Jackson Teller is getting out soon. He apparently made a deal that got his time shortened and it was just a matter of days until he was a free man. I had been following the case ever since I learned his name. Mostly because I was worried that he'd find out about Abel and demand him back and cut me out. I wanted to sit down and talk with him, against everyone else's better judgment, because I needed him to see who I was. I wasn't a baby napper who was collecting forgotten children, I was Abel's mother, biological or not. I need him to see that, to acknowledge that I'm not going anywhere, not without my son.