A woman receives a call from the hospital, learning that she lost her beloved sister and has two newborn nephews.
The rain tapped softly on the kitchen window as Mara sipped her morning coffee. The phone rang, its tone sharp and jarring in the quiet house. She answered casually, expecting a neighbor or her manager—never imagining that her life was about to split in two.
“Miss Albin?” came the voice on the line. “This is St. Vincent’s Hospital. I’m afraid… we have difficult news. Your sister, Lila, passed away this morning following complications during childbirth.”
Mara froze. Her breath caught mid-inhale.
The nurse continued gently, “She gave birth to twin boys. They’re healthy and stable. But… she didn’t make it.”
The mug slipped from Mara’s hand, shattering on the tile floor. The sound echoed, but it was distant—drowned by the sudden silence in her chest.
Lila. Her big sister. Her best friend since childhood. The wild spirit who danced barefoot in thunderstorms, who made the world feel less cruel just by being in it. Gone.
And now—two baby boys. Her nephews. Orphans.
Mara drove to the hospital in a fog, each red light an insult to her urgency. The maternity ward smelled of antiseptic and new beginnings, but all she could feel was loss.
A nurse led her into the neonatal unit. Two tiny bundles lay in separate cribs, swaddled in blue. One yawned. The other sneezed. Both perfect.
“They don’t have names yet,” the nurse said softly. “Lila hadn’t decided before delivery.”
Mara’s knees gave slightly as she approached them. Tears blurred her vision. “Hey,” she whispered, voice breaking. “I’m your aunt. I guess… I’m your everything now.”
In that moment, something shifted. Amid grief’s jagged edge, a seed of fierce love took root. Lila’s boys—her legacy—needed her.
She looked at them, then up toward the ceiling, as if Lila could hear.
“I’ll raise them as my own,” Mara whispered. “I’ll tell them who you were. Every day. I promise.”
The twins stirred. One made a small noise—a cry, not of sadness, but of life. Mara reached into the crib, laid her hand gently on his chest, and smiled through her tears.
One sister lost.
Two lives gained.
And a heart, broken and full, learning to beat again.
