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Gina

I can't believe this nasty ass motel room was my only option for hiding out in. A good friend of mine is cousins with the owner, so she managed to get me a room for free. That's why I can't complain. I have to spend what money I got carefully, cause it sure ain't much. I only have about $500 on me in cash, since I can't use my cards in case I'm being tracked. I know I'm being tracked. I had the money hidden in my pillowcase cause I had a feeling this would come back to bite me in the ass. I was just surprised it took this long to happen. The police really ain't shit.

I looked down at the black flip phone in my hand and sighed. It was also something I had hidden in case of an emergency like this. I got rid of my actual phone as soon as I got word of what was happening. I knew I had to get out of Atlanta when one of Isabella's little friends stopped by to tell me about a shooting. I lied and said I'd be down at the hospital when really I was getting my shit and leaving town. I hated to leave my child like this, especially right after she'd been shot, but I didn't have a choice. I knew what was gonna happen, and I couldn't be around for it. I couldn't go to prison. The media was on high alert right now, so if I'm gonna get her back, I have to wait for everything to simmer down. Then I'll strike.

Fucking Beyoncé. Fuck Shawn, too. And that baby of theirs. They already got a child, why they need to take mine?

Beyoncé, Beyoncé, Beyoncé.
Man, I remember when I first met her. She was young and dangerously in love with Jay. Neither one of them was ready to be parents though. Jay was still on his "big pimpin" shit and Bey was focused on her career. Beyoncé was so in love with Jay, but he was out with his hoes at night. Ain't that some shit?

Their baby needed a stable household, and the life they were trying to give her wasn't right. So I did what I had to do and stepped in. Not right away, though. I gave it some time to see if it would get better, and when it didn't, I had to move.

I remember it like it was yesterday. I worked for Beyoncé's team in the wardrobe department. At the time she wasn't nearly as big as she is now, remember this is around 2001-2002, so she was only in the planning stages of her solo career. She was famous, cause Destiny's Child was known, but she wasn't nothing special. Just another young R&B girl. We had plenty of those.

Whenever Beyoncé had a show or a performance somewhere, she would have her mama or Jay come with her baby. That baby was the calmest baby I'd ever seen, she rarely cried or whined. Very quiet and content with just watching Beyoncé work. I found it interesting, but also alarming. Babies are supposed to act like babies, it's apart of development, and that child wasn't acting like a baby should. That's when I first knew something wasn't right.

Around the time she was 3, Beyoncé had her schedule full all the time. It got to the point to where she didn't even bring the child around anymore. I was always wondering when she had time to play mama since she was always performing, recording or doing interviews. A friend of mine worked for Jay and said she wasn't with him either. They had their child at home with Beyoncé's mother while they were out partying and working, instead of raising her themselves.

It made me so angry.

I couldn't have children, and it's always been a sore spot for me when parents don't take care of their kids. If you have the opportunity to have and raise a child, why don't you? There's no reasonable excuse. It's selfishness.

I asked Beyoncé this one day and she responded with,

"I take care of my child when I'm home. I see her every morning and every night before bed. She's my world. I don't understand why you'd think otherwise, you don't know what goes on in my home. Now please, respect the boundaries between my personal life and work life. Can you hand me my dress?"

It was none of my business, but I had been working for her for a couple of years and I wanted to know. I didn't think she was made to be a mother, especially not then. She was in her early twenties and selfish and in love and career driven, she didn't need to have a baby. Jay was older, but he didn't need one either. I could tell they were failing at co-parenting and I knew they were on the verge of splitting cause of the cheating and jealousy going on. That child didn't deserve to be around that mess, so I took it upon myself and made the conscious decision to get her out of it.

Lauren Smith's 4th birthday party at Central Park. It was the end of summer in 2002. I heard Beyoncé discussing it with Kelly Rowland the day before, she was planning on taking her baby alone, since Jay couldn't make it. While they were chatting, I wrote down the details of the party- time, location, theme- before continuing on with my job.

The next day, I did what I had to do.

Beyoncé's attention span, I had come to notice, wasn't the best. For the majority of the afternoon, she kept her eye on the child constantly, or she had her in her arms. But there was a split second when she got distracted. Beyoncé turned her head to speak with another mother while the child was riding the carousel, alone.

She was familiar with me, so she didn't cry when I grabbed her. She smiled and waved at me as I ran off with her securely in my arms. I was lucky, because Central Park was busier than usual that day. I blended with the crowd. I didn't stop until I had gotten far, but not far enough, because I was still able to hear Beyoncé's screams in the distance a few minutes later.

That was the hardest part. The rest was pretty simple. I changed our names and knew someone who was known for making fake identifications. I got us everything we needed, mainly an ID for myself and a birth certificate for Bella, before fleeing the city. I kept Isabella's face hidden in a subtle way whenever we traveled to avoid her being recognized. There were a few close calls, but nothing that put our lives at risk.

As the years passed, Isabella's early memories of Beyoncé and Shawn Carter faded, and her features changed. I waited until I could look at the photograph used in the missing child report and Isabella's current appearance and not connect the two. We settled in Atlanta around the time she was 10, when I was sure we wouldn't be caught.

The way our new life was being handled with such ease convinced me that God wanted this for me. For us. Otherwise, I would've been caught before it had gotten that far. I don't see what I did wrong. I raised that child as if she were my own, and she was. If she had stayed with that mess the Carters were all them years ago, she would've ended up running away on her own. That life they're living is no life for a child. I saved her.

And soon, I would be doing it again. I just had to wait for the right time.

Nobody was taking my baby away from me.