The Day Two Sisters Burned for Husbands Who Never Came

"Soren, please pick up," I whispered into the phone.

The double maternity ward room was deathly quiet, save for the steady beep of Juliet's heart monitor. I hit dial for the fifth time.

The line connected.

"No! Don't come closer!" Jenna McLeish’s shrill voice pierced the speaker. "Let me jump! I can't take this anymore!"

"Jenna, look at me." Soren’s tone was a soft, frantic caress. "I’m right here. I won't let you fall. Just give me your hand."

"I ruin everything!" Jenna sobbed.

"You ruin nothing. You hear me? You are everything."

I sat in the sterile hospital bed, staring straight ahead. A clear plastic belongings bag rested on the visitor’s chair in the corner. Inside lay my yellow maternity dress. The bottom half was a stiff, dark crimson. Pints of my blood. The physical evidence of the twins I just pushed into the world, gone.

"Soren," I croaked.

The line went silent for a fraction of a second.

"Eliza, are you still playing this game?" Soren’s voice turned to ice. "I told you I am busy."

"The baby is dead."

"Stop faking."

"I was in the fire. They rushed me to the maternity ward."

"You always pull these stunts when I'm working."

"Soren, I am in a hospital bed. Our daughter didn't survive the delivery."

"If you're really sick, find a doctor. I don't have time for your pathetic attention-seeking today. Grow up."

"Soren, I am bleeding. I pushed our baby out and she didn't cry."

"Enough!" he barked. "Jenna is having a severe panic attack, and you're making up horror stories because you can't stand not being the center of attention for one night."

"I'm not making it up! The apartment burned down!"

"Find a doctor, Eliza. Do not call this number again tonight."

The dial tone buzzed in my ear.

I lowered the phone. My hands shook violently. He didn't believe me. He looked at my five missed calls, heard my raw, broken voice, and decided I was lying.

Juliet lay motionless in the bed next to mine. The IV pole beside her dripped clear fluid into her bruised arm. The heart monitor tracked a slow, agonizing rhythm.

She blinked at the fluorescent ceiling lights. Her chest rose and fell in shallow increments.

"Did you reach him?" she asked, her voice raspy.

"He hung up."

Juliet rolled her head toward me. Her eyes were hollow, stripped of the fierce panic from the fire. Her pale lips barely moved.

"My heart is broken too," she said.

"Juliet, I'm so sorry."

"They took him out," she whispered. She dragged her right hand across the white sheets, resting it flat against her stomach. "He was so small. They didn't even let me hold him."

"The doctors said you were bleeding internally. They had to operate fast."

"I carried you down thirteen floors," she murmured. "I thought we would both make it. I thought if I just kept moving, my baby would stay safe inside."

"You saved my life."

"I lost my son." Juliet closed her eyes. "I felt him stop kicking in the ambulance."

"Juliet..."

"I tried to protect him. I really tried."

A sharp ringtone shattered the quiet. Juliet's phone vibrated on the metal tray table. The caller ID flashed: *Zach*.

She snatched the device with trembling fingers. She pressed it to her ear.

"Zach? Zach, where are you?" she cried. "We lost the—"

"Keep your mouth shut," Zach Lennon snarled.

His voice was loud enough to carry across the gap between our beds. I sat up, clutching my ribs.

"I am warning you, Juliet," Zach continued. "Stay away from Jenna."

Juliet flinched. "What?"

"You heard me. You and your sister need to back off."

"Zach, I just had emergency surgery," Juliet begged. Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes, tracking into her hairline. "Our baby is gone."

"I don't care about your imaginary drama!" Zach shouted. "Jenna almost died on that roof tonight! She is fragile, and you two are making it worse with your constant harassing calls."

"I called you because the apartment was on fire!"

"Stop lying! You're just jealous because I had to leave your stupid dinner party last week to help her."

"Zach, my stomach is empty. Our son is dead!"

"Don't you dare contact her or me again until you learn some basic human decency," Zach said. "Jenna needs peace right now. She doesn't need your toxic jealousy."

"Zach, please listen to me—"

"We are done talking."

The call ended.

Juliet frantically tapped the screen. She pressed redial and held the phone to her ear.

A robotic voice filled the room. *The number you have reached has restricted incoming calls.*

She lowered the phone. "He blocked me."

"He didn't even ask," I said, my chest tightening. "He didn't ask a single question about the fire."

Juliet dropped the device. It bounced off the mattress and hit the floor.

She didn't scream. She didn't throw her pillow.

Instead, she reached up with a shaking hand and adjusted her plastic oxygen mask. A thin layer of white fog coated the clear shield with every ragged exhale.

She pressed both palms over her empty womb.

"He hasn't been home in a month," Juliet said softly.

I pulled my knees to my chest. I buried my face against my hospital gown.

For the first time since the smoke filled my hallway, I didn't cry out loud. I just curled into a tight ball, letting the silent tears soak into the thin cotton.

During Zach's call, beneath his yelling, I had heard another voice. Zach had turned his head away from the phone for a split second.

*You're safe now, Jenna,* Zach had murmured. *We've got you.*

We.

Soren and Zach.

They weren't just misunderstanding a rescue mission. They weren't just protecting a friend.

They were working together. They had turned my sister and me into a massive, pathetic joke. They ignored our screams, let our homes burn, and sacrificed their own unborn children—all to play the devoted saviors to Jenna McLeish.

I wiped my face. The sadness vanished, replaced by a cold, hard knot in my chest.

How long had they been lying to us?