Ailana’s Journal—2026-06-02 (Patreon)

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GOOD MORNING by Ailana Geven Keller

Tuesday already? I woke up, and for a moment, I thought everything had been a dream—the wedding, the hearing, Emily, all of it.

I’m glad it wasn’t.

That almost-awake fog cleared when I turned over and hit Jason with my elbow. Then the last of my dream state was dispelled.

To say the least, things in my world have been changing fast since May 23, when I married Jason. You know what’s not been changing fast?

Completing items on my to-do list.

Now, if you want to talk about the to-do list getting longer, that might count as changing fast.

I have to work today. And I have to meet with Josh to get a report about what the lawyers and private investigators have been able to find out.

Another thing on the schedule today: Dad is taking a long lunch to come meet Emily. He’s nervous. I’m sure this will be hard for him, but both of them want to meet each other.

I’m going to try to work around all of that and get some articles back to the buyers who requested revisions.

Also, last thing… I texted Naomi and asked her to hold off on sending us work for the next few days. She said okay and asked if Friday would work. I said probably.

So that’s how things are going for me. I hope you have a great Tuesday morning. See you soon!

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Now is a great time to tell others about Ailana's Journal, Season Three! The summer is kicking off, and it looks like it's going to be great!

FOUR STATES AWAY by Ailana Geven Keller

Josh would never hold himself up as a hero, but what he’s been able to do through his family connections is remarkable. There’s a lot to tell, so I won’t ramble.

“I’ve got a preliminary report,” Josh began. “I’ve got a preliminary report,” Josh began. “There are some missing details, and how all this was obtained falls under the ‘don’t ask, we’re not telling’ clauses in the contract.”

I’ll keep the events in Las Vegas in chronological order.

Emily was born January 12, 2010. Melinda became pregnant shortly after arriving in Las Vegas, when she had just started in her new line of work. Her father is unknown.

At the beginning of her ninth-grade year, Emily went back into her mother’s custody. That was fall 2024. Melinda was 51 years old. She was past her prime for the… entertainment business.

“According to bank records, there are regular international electronic deposits from an untraceable source going back to the middle of spring 2025. The suspicion is that this is where the… pedicure pictures were going. The last deposit lines up with Emily’s report.”

The details about the day Emily ran confirm her report. An order on the non-indexed web was intercepted, and police were already en route to catch the buyer and Melinda.

Emily got away.

“As she said,” Jason added, “unnoticed is as good as unseen.”

“Security cameras picked her up. She just blended in,” Josh reported. “CIA agents should take lessons from her.”

When Emily ran, Melinda did, too. According to the police, they estimate they missed her by a few minutes. The buyer was arrested banging on the door demanding his money back.

“Security footage showed Melinda getting into a car. The car was traced to someone who was also connected to payments from the arrested man. The best guess is that he was the broker.”

“Where does that leave my mother?”

Josh shook his head. “At large, with multiple state and federal felony arrest warrants out for her.”

Clay offered a guess. “Bet she’s trying to get across the border and go back to her entertainment business.”

HOW IT CAN BE by Allen Geven

I worked out with my boss to take a long lunch today. Most of you know that Ailana’s half sister made her way about 1,600 miles from Las Vegas to South Padre Island—crossing all of Arizona and Texas, plus small parts of New Mexico and Nevada—to ask for help.

|| Read this and more on Patreon (link in bio). ||

From my point of view, Ailana’s mother—my former wife, who ended up in Las Vegas—had another daughter and didn’t do much better in the motherhood department with her, either.

Earlier, I promised to talk about where I am in my life, but right now I want to focus on how things can be with Ailana, Emily, and me. Pushing my utter shock aside—as you do—I want to have a healthy relationship, whatever that looks like.

Today’s long lunch was supposed to set the stage for that. And it sort of did.

I got to the AGI office to find Ailana standing at a desk, her phone on speaker, her fingers flying over the laptop. Emily was sitting with Jasmine when I walked in.

Jasmine introduced us and added, “Ailana is cooked. The images for an article are missing, the deadline is right now, and she’s got to go back to the Photoshop files and get them to the editor.”

Emily was nodding the whole time.

“Should we step out?” I said. “Or should I come back another time?”

Jasmine nodded and got up. Emily and I followed her out the door.

“Emily, what do you think?” Jasmine said.

“Well, we already met. You’re already here.”

We stood there outside the office for a few seconds that seemed to be half an hour, so I broke the silence. “Have you all eaten?”

They hadn’t, so I offered to buy lunch.

| The rest of this chapter is exclusive to Patreon.

We walked down Whiting Street, past The Kraken, across Padre Boulevard, and to a place called Viva. It overlooks Laguna Madre, and we got a table with a nice view.

Emily ordered the Smash Burgher, Jasmine picked the Club Sandwich, and I took the Steak ’N Frites. Iced tea all around.

The conversation was light and unsurprising for a while. She told us about high school. She told us that middle school had been rough, changing schools every time she changed foster parents.

“My caseworker said I had a string of bad luck those years.”

Jasmine added that the judges, lawyers, and powers that be had cleared things up with Nevada’s child welfare system.. “After court yesterday, we’re all set to move forward.”

Emily smiled at her. “I like how everyone in AGI thinks like a family.”

We had just finished our meals when Sasha called. There was a Teams call with one of the suppliers that got moved up earlier, so Jasmine needed to leave.

“Shall we walk back, or do you guys want to stay here?” she asked.

We had ordered dessert—Walnut Cake—so we decided to stay. I promised to box up Jasmine’s and take it back to her later.

As Jasmine left, I turned to Emily. “Is this awkward now?”

She shrugged. “I mean, not really, but sort of.”

That pretty much summed things up for me, too. “I think all you did to survive back in Vegas is impressive.”

“I did what I had to do. I’m lucky, to be honest, that I got away with some of it.”

We talked about some of the nights she stayed out on the streets. I was pretty horrified by all the things that could have happened but didn’t.

Then, we got to when Melinda found Ailana’s social media content.

“She totally crashed out,” Emily said. “I can’t even repeat half of what she said, but I decided that if she was that mad about it, it must be something pretty good.”

“Reverse logic?”

Emily nodded. “I started going to the library and using the computer to read everything. I read a lot of it more than once.”

Somehow, we got onto the topic of her visit to the youth group and the kids who went to the beach Sunday. That led to Jenna, and then she asked about Jenna’s dad, which led to her asking what I do at work.

Eventually, there was a lull, and she took a bite of her cake and looked up. “What should I call you?”

“Call me whatever you want.”

She took another bite. “Is it weird to think I could have been your second daughter? Like, I know everything with you and my mother ended, but…”

I was honest. “Yeah, it’s pretty weird. I would have been thirty-nine when you were born.”

Emily smiled. “Don’t take this the wrong way… I’m not being creepy, but I wish you were my dad. Look how Ailana turned out… You did that.”

I didn’t know what to say. “I think a lot of her is just her. And a lot of who I am comes from things I learned from her, too.”

Emily sipped her tea, then said, “Well, I didn’t learn anything good from my mother, and I don’t know who my father is. And don’t worry… I’m not asking you to be my father or anything. I’m okay.”

I shared a little thought with her. “In a way, it sounds like Jason may already be becoming something like your dad. If Ailana becomes your legal guardian, then in a family way, Jason is sort of your dad.”

Emily shrugged. “I’m okay with that. He might not want to call it that, I don’t know. I like him. He’s good for Ailana.”

“You can say that again,” I replied.

I thought back to her original question. “Josh calls his dad ‘Pops.’ Back in the day, people used that—or just ‘Pop’—casually for older men. Like, ‘Yo, Pops! You’ve got a flat!’”

“So, like ‘bro’ now?”

I smiled. “I guess so. ‘Yo! Bro! You’ve got a flat!’”

She smiled and nodded. “Pops will work. We should make a big scene for Ailana…”

We talked about that, then decided we’d just tell her.

Then I said, “If you think of anything that I might be able to do for you, just ask.”

She hardly hesitated. “I know something. It’s silly.”

“What is it?”

“I know it won’t lead to anything, but…would you teach me to throw and catch a softball like you did for Ailana? I cried a dozen times when I read about that in her posts.”

I sort of teared up right then. I nodded before I could get any words out.

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GOOD NIGHT by Ailana Geven Keller

I’ve reached the part of the day where all I want is clean teeth, fresh breath, and a soft pillow.

Jason has knocked out steps one and two. I’m close behind him.

Today was rife with things. And stuff. And… you know.

We learned a lot from Josh about things in Las Vegas. I am still finding it hard to believe that anyone could do that to a child. I’m not doubting that it happened—just that anyone could…

Anyway…

Somehow, I glitched the image uploads for an article about conservation on the Louisiana coast from the last Savannah’s Charm cruise. My writing agent called with a last-minute sale and an urgent request to redo the images.

While I did that, Dad was off having lunch with Emily. They returned with good stories and a decision that she’d call him Pops and that he’d teach her to throw and catch a softball.

I cried. I’ve done that a lot lately.

Tomorrow is another day. That means another adventure as a wife, model, writer, and whatever legal word I am this week. But, here’s the thing…

When I walked Emily up to her room, she said, “Come in for a minute.”

She asked about some of the microwave settings and wanted to make sure it was okay to use the washer and dryer. I answered her questions—and yes, of course she can do laundry.

Then she said, “Ailana, I dreamed of being here for so long… I knew it would be better than being with our mother. But I had no idea how happy I would be. I never imagined anyone would buy me clothes or take me out to eat. I wanted a haven. I got heaven.”

I cried again.

May your efforts become heaven to those around you.

Good night.

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