Just as there is no warning for child birth, there is no preparation for the first sight of a child.

~ Anita Diamant

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I heard a sound.

It was a small cry for help. Stirring from my sleep, I instinctively turned my head to the direction of the sound.

The cries grew louder.

And I opened my eyes to see a child, huddled over beside me. He was crying. My eyes wandered across the train, looking for his guardian. No one met my eyes.

"Mommy..." The boy sobbed, clinging to my coat. The people inside the train gave us curious glances. I felt uncomfortable.

Whose child was this?

I looked around once more, trying to find the boy's parents.

"Excuse me..." A middle aged woman suddenly came up to me. I raised a brow in surprise and confusion.

"Yes?"

"Your child is crying. What seems to be the matter?" The woman asked in a sweet voice.

"What?" I frowned.

"Did something happen?" She queried.

Stammering, I replied to her. "I—I'm single!"

The woman was surprised at my outburst. Then, she made a small 'oh' with her mouth as if she understood.

"I'm sorry about your husband. I didn't mean to pry."

"What?"

"What?"

We looked at each other, confused.

"Um... perhaps you didn't have a husband who recently died?" She asked, tentatively.

"No, ma'am. I—I don't have a husband. And, this child is not mine!" I explained, trying to clear up the misunderstanding. As soon as I said the words, the child sobbed harder.

"Mommy..." He clung to me.

The woman looked unconvinced with my explanation.

"I—He really isn't my kid!" I exclaimed, gaining the attention of a few other passengers.

"Okay..." The woman gave me a weird look, as if resigned. Then, she walked away.

I turned to the child who continued to sob.

"Hey!" I hissed. "Where are your parents?"

He shook his head. "Mommy..."

"Where's your mother? Are you lost?"

He shook his head again, still refusing to say anything else other than 'mommy'. I mentally cursed, frustrated. Standing up, I took the boy's hand and tugged him to follow me.

"Excuse me!" I bellowed, catching the attention of the passengers. "There's a lost child here." I announced.

Some passengers looked at the child then went back to their business. Others averted their gazes as soon as I looked at them. A few came up to me with worried expressions. But, no one came up to claim him.

"Where are his parents?" A man in his late-thirties came up to me and asked.

"I don't know." I replied, shaking my head. The man gave me a meaningful look before he crouched down on one knee in front of the kid.

"Hey, little guy." He started. "What's your name?"

I rolled my eyes. "It's no use. The kid is—"

"... Crispin."

I stopped mid-sentence as the boy finally said something other than 'mommy'. The man shot me a playful smile, before he went back to conversing with the kid.

"That's a handsome name for a handsome boy. Where are you from?"

The boy, Crispin, shook his head.

"Did you come here with your parents?" The man asked.

Hesitantly, Crispin nodded his head. With a friendly smile, the man patted Crispin's head.

"Do you want me to help you find your mommy?" The man offered, slowly taking his hands from mine. I let out a breathe of relief.

However, Crispin chose that moment to remain difficult by tugging his hands from the man's hold and went back to clinging on me.

"Mommy!"

Great. He's back to calling me mommy. The man looked at me, confused. I shrugged.

"I'm not his mom. I just woke up earlier and saw him. He's been clinging to me since then." I explained.

"Maybe his mother looks like you." The man speculated.

"Looks like me?" I couldn't help but frown. "Do you think a mother would look like I do?" I gestured to my appearance.

My hair was dyed red and I was still wearing my blue contacts. One of my ears is pierced and I was still wearing my cosplay from underneath my coat.

"You're quite young, I see." The man commented with a sheepish smile.

"Exactly." Finally, someone who gets it.

"If you want, I can take the child to the police station with me."

"Sure." I agreed immediately.

"Hey," I looked at the kid, "go to that man over there."

"Mommy...?" He hiccupped.

"Go. To. That. Man." I stressed each word. The child looked at me with tear streaked eyes. His lips curled down and his nose scrunched up.

"Mommy!" He began to sob even harder.

"Wait! No, don't cry!" Panicking, I crouched down to Crispin's level, the same way the man did earlier.

"Hey!" I held both of his hands in mine. "I'll come with you, alright? Don't cry!"

Eventually, Crispin started to calm down. Hesitantly, I stood up with Crispin's hand still in mine. I faced the man with a forced smile.

"I guess I'll come with you to the police station."

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From afar, the police station looked out of place. Just beside the intersection, the police station looked like a splash of white, blue, and red in the middle of the grey town. And the man, whom I have come to know as Stephen, led us to the building.

In my life, I have never once been to a police station. Today, I took my first step into the facility. As soon as I did, the first thing I noticed was the haphazard files stacked over one another like mini high-rise building models.

Although the exterior seemed freshly painted, the inside looked like it's been a while since the walls had a decent cleaning. The discolored paint had peeled off in some corners, and there is obvious attempt to hide this by plastering random stickers on the walls.

I sat at one of the seats as Stephen walked to the podium and talked to policemen about the child. Crispin silently sat beside me, still desperately clinging to me like a koala.

"What?!" I heard Stephen exclaim. He glanced at our direction, looking apprehensive. Then, in a smaller voice, he talked to the policeman with gusto. He seemed troubled.

At this point, I had a feeling things were going to the worst case scenario. I watched as Stephen silently argued with the policeman. And then, he sighed. He glanced at us once again, designment in his expression.

Then, he shook his head and talked to the policeman once more. After he was done, he walked back to us.

"What happened?" I asked.

Stephen sighed, remaining silent for a while.

"Well?" I egged. "Are they going to find the boy's parents, or not?"

Stephen looked at Crispin with a sad look in his face, then he sighed again.

"There's been a... problem."

The ominous feeling in my gut intensified.

"What is it?"

.

.

.

.

"There's no child named Crispin in their registries."