nervously.
“Actually, you’re going to hate this.”
“What?”
“There are three.”
I went silent.
“Three what?”
She laughed again.
“Babies, idiot. Triplets.”
I drove to her apartment that evening carrying groceries, prenatal vitamins, and enough anxiety for both of us.
But Vanessa looked happy.
Really happy.
She sat on the couch with one hand over her growing stomach, smiling in a way I hadn’t seen in years.
Marcus, her boyfriend, seemed overwhelmed but committed.
He painted the nursery.
He spent an entire Saturday assembling three cribs.
He complained about hospital parking and argued with Vanessa over baby names.
Everything looked normal.
By the final month, Vanessa was exhausted, uncomfortable, and constantly joking that the babies had declared war on her bladder.
I had no reason to believe anything was wrong.
No reason to believe she was planning to disappear.
Part 2 — Three Babies and an Empty Hospital Room
On the
