She's mine. That was the first thought that came to my mind when I held my baby in my arms at seventeen. I didn't care that my parents had already promised to give her to a wealthy family. That they were forcing me to give her away. She was mine. I ran away from that hospital, from that family, from the only life I knew. I planned to start over with what little money I had, determined to make something of myself despite the odds. Then Logan Tate came along. Gorgeous and controlling, he claimed he was trying to help me, and he didn't care that I was just another teenage pregnancy story. But I don't trust him. I don't trust anyone. And if Logan knew the real secrets and lies I was keeping inside, he wouldn't dare try to shelter me.