The spinning mobile shined in the moonlight pouring through the large window. The gold stars glittered as "twinkle, twinkle little star" played softly, echoing in the nearly empty room. Pale pink adorned the walls with tiny gold stars lining the base boards and the ceiling. A huge star painted on the farthest wall from the door accented the headboard of the white crib. Gold stars, well they were kind of her thing.

A dresser and a changing table also filled the room. Tiny newborn clothes, onesies, pants, shirts, little baby dresses already inhabiting the drawers. One set of clothes, ready for her trip home from the hospital, sat atop the white furniture. It was a pink dress, a little gold star embroidered on the bottom hem unknown to anyone but the baby's mother. It was a little piece of herself to give to her daughter. The changing table was filled with diapers and creams and lotions and bathing soaps, carefully placed to fit her design.

Everything down to the bedroom door was meticulously planned. The name on the door was in big letters, curvy and cute to look at, RACHEL. Underneath her name was a frame of her last sonogram. Soon the frame next to that one would be filled with her first real picture, one her mother would probably never see.

A white rocking chair was placed next to the crib. It was the most important part of the room according to the petite brunette. She pulled her long hair into a messy bun and sat slowly into the chair. Rocking back and forth she could nearly imagine cradling Rachel as she rocked her to sleep, or fed her, or comforted her while she cried. None of those things would happen though.

This house was not hers, this chair was not meant to be occupied by her, and this was not her baby. Rachel was her blood, she grew in her womb; she was loved by the woman who would birth her. But her baby was signed and sealed in a contract to Liam and Michael Berry, the gay couple she agreed to make Rachel for.

Shelby Corcoran cried as she held her stomach as if it was Rachel in her arms. The money for her to live in New York and begin her career was held in a trust fund accessible the moment Rachel was sent home with her fathers. When she started this, the money was the only thing on her mind. Now, Shelby knew that money would never make her happy. She didn't want any of it, just Rachel.

A final tear slipped down her cheek and she stood from the rocking chair, the rocking chair she made herself in her second trimester when she realized she loved her daughter. An envelope with her babies name on it was left in the crib. Liam and Michael would know to give it to her when she was old enough to read it and understand why Shelby did what she did. Shelby turned off the light to the nursery and closed the door behind her.