terrified.

When I reached daycare, Emma came running toward me with only one shoe.

“Mommy!”

Lucy followed.

They both crashed into my arms.

I squeezed them too tightly.

“Too much squish,” Lucy complained.

I loosened my hold.

“Sorry, baby.”

That night, I made boxed macaroni and cheese.

I asked about their day.

I laughed when I was supposed to.

I pretended everything was normal.

They believed me.

After they fell asleep, I sat on the kitchen floor.

Daniel used to sit there when the twins were babies.

Sometimes during those endless nights when neither girl would sleep, he’d sit against the cabinets holding a bottle because the cold tile helped his back.

I stared at the empty space beside me.

“What am I supposed to do now?”

The apartment stayed silent.

The next morning, my phone rang shortly after seven.

It was Marcus from hotel security.

Over the past year,