Chapter One
The morning air was snappy with the promise of rain when Mila Louis got a phone call that would break her whole world forever. She was in the kitchen, purring softly to one of her favorite songs, her eight-month-pregnant belly pressing against the edge of the counter as she gently stirred a pot of egg omelet. Daniel had left for his business trip the previous night— a trip he had almost rescheduled because she had pleaded with him to stay back.
“Just three days, Mila,” he’d said, kissing her hands softly. “We'll set up the nursery together once I'm back, I promise”.
His voice had carried the same affection that first drew her to him, and for a moment, everything in their world was just perfectly just as she always dreamt of. But now, with the phone shaking in her hands, that perfection had faded into silence.
“Mrs. Louis?” Then woman said on the other end. “There’s been an accident. The plane your husband boarded went down over the Atlantic. And no one survived.”
The words echoed in her head as the caller hung up. Mila’s lips parted, but no words came out. The pot spilled on the stove, a soft steam rose like the final whisper of a dying dream. Her knees wobbled, and she gently slicked to the floor, one hand clamping her belly for support, as if she could hold her babies and her sanity in one place at the same time.
Her neighbor, Mrs. Clark, rushed in moments later after hearing the crash of a pot. She found Mila crumpled on the floor, tears running down her cheeks, whispering the same words again and again.
“He promised to come to me.“
The funeral was held a week later. Daniel’s coffin was closed — there had been nothing left to see, nothing left to hold on to. His business partners, the same men who once toasted their shared success and achievements, now stood awkwardly putting on black suits, speaking among themselves in hushed tones.
After the burial, they visited her home.
“Mila,” said Mr. Greene, Daniel’s closest associate and friend. “You should know by now how the market works. Daniel’s shares were tied to unfinished projects and debts. The company can’t afford—”
“You can’t afford to help his grieving widow?” Mila’s voice was raw, trembling. “You both built that company.”
They looked away. Words of pity, empty promises, and business excuses filled the room like smoke. By the end of the week, every asset Daniel owned had been “salvaged” by the company. Mila was left with nothing but unpaid debts and the echo of her husband’s laughter in an empty home.
She sold her car which was gifted to her by Daniel, then her jewelry. The baby clothes she’d bought with so much excitement now lay in boxes she couldn’t bring herself to open. Nights were long — the walls of the house felt tighter with every passing day, the silence heavy with grief and fear.
One evening, she sat on the porch, holding Daniel’s photograph. The edges were worn out, the glass had cracked.
“What am I supposed to do now, Daniel?” she whispered. “How do I raise them all by myself?” Tears running down down her cheeks as she hugged the photograph tightly.
The wind carried no answer. Only the distant murmuring of thunder twirling across the evening sky.
*****
Labor came in early.
The contractions started slowly and by dawn, the pains became so intense and relentless. She had packed a small baby bag. Mrs. Clark quickly rushed her to the hospital. Rain lashed against the windows as they drove, and every lightning flash seemed to echo her pain.
The smell of antiseptic had filled the hospital and cold had saturated her lungs as nurses hurried her to the delivery ward. She had no relation, no money, no plan. Only pain and fear had creeped into her heart.
A few hours later, the cries of two babies filled the room. The nurse smiled at her.
“Two beautiful boys, Mrs. Louis.”
Mila was too tired to respond, she barely had any strength left. She turned her head slowly, her swollen eyes landing on the two tiny pretty faces wrapped up beside her bed. One had a faint dimple on both cheeks, the other had Daniel’s dark curls.
“Raphael, and Franklin” she whispered, she couldn't hold back her tears as she gently kissed them on their foreheads.
She wanted to share this moment with Daniel but he was gone.
She has been looking forward to meeting her babies and she was happy to hold them in her arms.
But as the night wore on, reality wrecked back. She had no money to pay for the hospital bills. She was about to lose her home. The nurse who was assigned to check on her wore an apologetic glance. “There’s a couple next door,” she said tenderly “They lost their baby earlier today. They’ve been crying uncontrollably. The doctor had warned that it will take a while for the mother to recover from the trauma.”
Mila’s heart tightened. She turned to her sleeping sons, her mind spinning out of control with anxiety and despair. The nurse paused shortly, then added, “They’re stinkily rich… They offered to help anyone who could…”
“Stop,” Mila whispered softly, she already had an idea rooted in her heart.
She had cried herself to sleep the previous night and the day broke into different thoughts of how she was going to survive with her boys. The hospital bills kept increasing, and every nurse who entered her room glanced at her with a gentle sympathy. That evening, she informed the nurse to speak with the doctor privately.
The doctor fixed a gaze on her before uttering a word.
“Mrs. Louis, have you thought about it thoroughly?”
“I have,” Mila said firmly, though her voice shaked. “I can’t raise two babies on my own, I don't have help from anyone.
A few moments later, Mr. and Mrs. Bennett entered the room. The woman’s eyes were swollen from crying, her hands clutched firmly around a rosary. She gazed at the twins with pity and it broke Mila’s heart.
“Are you sure about this?” Mr. Bennett asked gently.
Mila gave a nod, tears running down freely. “Promise me you'll take good care of him. Promise me you’ll love him like your own child.”
Mrs. Bennett reached for Mila's hand. “We will. I swear on my life.”
They finalised everything privately, with only the doctor as witness. All the necessary documents were signed, tears shed, hearts broken and one of the babies — Franklin — was taken away the next day by the couple. Mila cuddled Raphael to her chest, her heart shattered with every step that took her baby out of reach.
When the door closed, the room became so empty. The silence squealed louder than her pain.
“Forgive me, my son,” she murmured softly. “I’m deeply sorry for having to let you go.”
