The photo attached was an NT scan from a prenatal checkup, and the location tag placed them at the very same hospital where my babies and I were.
My nails dug into my palms until they broke skin. Hatred spread through me like wildfire.
The doors to the resuscitation room swung open. The doctor's face was grim.
"The twin girl didn't make it. We're still working on the boy."
My chest seized. A gush of warmth flooded beneath me. I reached down instinctively, and my hand came back drenched in red.
"Postpartum hemorrhage! I need help in here, now!"
When I woke again, the doctor told me the boy hadn't made it either.
My fingers clenched the bedsheet until my knuckles turned white. Tears poured down my face, but no sound came out. Not a single sound.
My phone screen lit up. An email notification slid into view, from an overseas reproductive research facility:
Mr. Dale Sanchez, we regret to inform you that the semen sample you submitted contained a sperm count of zero and cannot be used for biological research. We appreciate your contribution to...
Five months ago, after my twin pregnancy had stabilized, Dale had convinced himself he was fertile again.
Eager to prove his virility, he'd dragged me to an overseas research institute to donate sperm for a biological study. Then he'd rushed off to see Lindsay, who was still in school at the time, and left all the follow-up paperwork to me. My contact information was the one on file.
Which meant Lindsay's baby couldn't possibly be Dale's.
My hatred peaked. A cold, mocking smile tugged at the corner of my lips.
Dale, if you knew Lindsay's child wasn't yours, would you still be smiling?
At the twins' funeral, I cried until my legs gave out.
Lindsay appeared in the memorial hall wearing a plunging red bodycon dress, a Sanchez family heirloom necklace glittering at her throat.
She rested one hand on her belly and walked straight toward me.
"Like it?" She touched the necklace. "Dale gave it to me. A reward for carrying his baby, he said."
She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper only I could hear.
"Hildegarde, everything that happened today is exactly what you deserve."
"Why did my biological parents throw me away and keep you instead? Do you have any idea how many years I spent in the Swanson house wishing I were dead? And then you come back, and Dale, the man who grew up with me, the man who swore I was the only woman he'd ever love, leaves me too? You two made me the laughingstock of our entire circle. Now I'm taking back everything that was always mine."
"The Sanchez fortune will be inherited by my child. You and your children were never anything more than casualties."
Understanding settled in my eyes like ice forming over still water.
"You don't love Dale at all, do you? You actually hate him. Because he abandoned you and turned you into a joke in front of every wealthy family in the city."
"This whole devoted-lover act is just about money. You want to bleed him dry."
"Aren't you afraid Dale will find out the baby isn't his?"
Lindsay didn't flinch. Her composure was absolute.
"That's slander. My baby is Dale's, and this child is the sole heir to the Sanchez family."
Around us, the other mourners had started whispering, their eyes fixed on Lindsay.
"Dressed like that at a funeral? Disgraceful."
"Exactly. No class whatsoever."
"Obviously the mistress. Homewrecker."
Dale rushed in and pulled Lindsay behind him, shielding her.
"Lindsay just wanted to lighten the mood. She meant well."
"Besides, Lindsay is carrying my child. She's done the Sanchez family a great service."
I watched him stand there without a shred of grief for the two babies we had just buried, and the urge to tear him apart nearly consumed me.
If not for him, my children never would have been born premature. They never would have died.
"Dale, those were your children too. How can you be this heartless?" My voice cracked. "Are you even human?"
Dale looked at me without a trace of warmth in his eyes.
"I only married you because I had no choice. Lindsay is carrying the Sanchez family's firstborn grandson. My first child. If I don't even care about Lindsay, why would I care about you? And if I don't care about her baby, why would I care about two dead little losers?"
I had nothing more to say to this animal who didn't deserve to be called human.
I watched as the tiny bodies were fed into the cremation furnace, still curled in on themselves. When the tray slid back out, there was nothing left but fine bone fragments. Almost nothing at all. My heart clenched so tight I thought it would collapse.
Lindsay nestled into Dale's arms.
"Dale, if you and my sister get divorced, her children won't be entered into the Sanchez family registry. Burying children who aren't even in the registry at the Sanchez family plot would only bring shame to the family."
Dale nodded. "Find somewhere and scatter the ashes. I don't care where."
One look from him, and the security guards moved in to take the urns.
I shielded them like a woman possessed, clutching them to my chest with everything I had.
"Dale, do you have any idea that Lindsay's baby isn't yours? You can't even father children."
"And because you helped Lindsay murder your own flesh and blood, this is your punishment. You will never have another child for the rest of your life."
"Your bloodline ends here."
