The second my older brother Darren slowed his Volvo to a stop along the curb outside the rundown motel, I knew something was wrong.
It wasn't one of those feelings that intensifies because you see something unnerving; it was a cold, harsh knot in the pit of my stomach that was indescribable. He, being the cautious nerd he was, crept out of the car slowly and eyed my sister's sunflower yellow Volkswagen Beetle. I couldn't image what would be making him stare so intently at the hold hunk of junk, not until I saw the stained windshield; a consequence of the last of the Monsoons that had rolled into down just before school was to start again. Darren knew as well as I did how OCD our sister was, and for her car to have even the slightest speck of dirt, let alone be covered in hard rain spots, was very unlike her.
"You said she wasn't picking up?" Darren said now, shutting his creaky door hard enough to shake the entire car. I joined him on the sidewalk, nodding.
"Yeah, she hasn't been answering my texts or my calls." I whispered, withholding the piece of information that would have very much have my twenty-five-year-old brother rushing up the stairs and breaking the door down.
The cold knot began to unfurl the closer we got to Maya's small little one bedroom Weekly. I could hear the bloodcurdling cry of an infant sounding from where we stood a few doors down. My brother heard it too, but rather than race toward the noise in horror, his lips turned down in a frown. I, on the other hand, knew very well where the crying was come from and took off in a sprint toward her door.
As soon as I reached it, I stared hard at the door as another cry joined in chorus with the first. My brother was approaching slowly, but gears were shifting in his head as he tried to process what was going on. As he took a key to the knob, I could tell my tensing in his shoulders that he'd finally put two and two together. Our sister's avoidance of everyone in the family and the ear-piercing wails.
My brother pressed his palm against me, gently shoving my body behind him in a protective manner as he nudged the door open with his foot. The rancid smell hit me first and I stumbled back, touching the back of my hand to my mouth in hopes it'd prevent my lunch from making a reappearance. A strange look flashed through my brothers eyes as he inhaled a breath of fresh air before entering the small, claustrophobic room. I followed behind, wanting nothing more than to pull the hem of my shirt over my nose to block the stench, but the second my eyes fell on the ratty old Black and Blue Pack N' Play in the center of the living room, everything around me grew still.
Both babies, Max and Michaela, were covered head to toe in formula and stool. Shoving passed my brother, I rushed to them, the coldness blossoming into a full on numbing, icy chill radiating throughout my entire body.
"Stay here." Darren ordered, craning his neck to peer down the hallway. "I'm going to do a quick sweep through the place. Clean the kids up and take them outside. We'll talk about all of this in a bit."
Then my tall, helicopter older brother disappeared down the hallway. Though I could only do so much without bathing both kids, I grabbed two fresh diapers and two packs of wipes from the small caddy on the broken coffee table. Stripping two newborns out of soaked clothing proved to be the hardest task I'd faced in a long time. Max calmed himself as soon as I picked him up, big, wide blue eyes romancing my face. Michaela, however, continued to wail as loud as her little lungs would let her. I kept my hand behind Max's neck as I hunted down an old blanket and laid it on the floor, soon changing Michaela and setting her on the blanket beside her twin. But that was as far as I could get; I didn't know what else to do. I'd had Maya here to explain everything the last couple weeks, to show me the ways I could help her with her beautiful babies.
"It's okay." I tried to reassure the babies at my feet, my eyes scouring the living room, then the small dining room, for any sign of their car seats. "Mommy probably just fell asleep."
Just as Max began to pout his lip and start crying Darren stormed into the room, face ashen and eyes as wide as the baby boy clutching my finger. He hadn't come back with my sister, but with two large duffel bags, already packed to the brim.
"Get them outside, Mia." I lifted my head, my brother's voice momentarily drowning out the wails. "I'm not going to ask you again!"
I shook my head. "Where's Maya? Dare, where is she?"
He didn't budge, but the little red that had spread across his cheeks out of anger drained at the mention of my twin sisters name. "Mia, please make them a bottle or something and get outside."
I hesitated for a minute, my hands trembling at my sides, before I turned and dug through a bunch of dirty bottles until I found an unopened pack of some and hurriedly made both kids a bottle as my brother brushed passed me and started to throw any of the baby's belongings into the duffels draped over either forearm. He then swung one of them so it was hanging of his back and crouched down beside me. For a second I thought he was going to yell, to demand an answer as to why our sister had kept the twins a secret from the family for the last year, but he only picked Michaela up from the blanket and looked toward me, dark eyes prompting me to do the same with Max.
I stood with the three-week-old boy cradled in my arms, afraid with every step I took that my arms would suddenly give out and he'd slip through. I managed to get a few steps out the door before my entire body grew rigid. There were two ambulances, a fire engine, and what looked like an entire police station blocking off the exit of the parking lot. Darren was already down the narrow path that led directly to our sisters car, an EMT all but ripping Michaela from his arms and rushing her to the back of an ambulance. I started to turn back toward the dirty living room of my sister's Weekly, ready to make a run for it to see what was going on with my sister, but a police officer stepped in front of me and started speaking to me.
I couldn't hear anything he said through the loud buzzing that had begun to sound in my ears, tears stinging my eyes. I felt someone come up and pry Max from my tight grasp, and even though I didn't want to let him go, he was gone within seconds. It seemed as though him being taken from me finally thrusted me back into reality and I lurched forward to try and squeeze passed the officer, but he grasped my shoulders tightly, a sad look drawing his thick eyebrows together.
Then the walkie talkie attached to the top of his camo green uniform broke through the buzzing in my ears, soon replaced with static. Whatever had been said, the officer understood because he picked the little speaker up and brough it to his mouth and said, "Yes, sir. Officer Warren here on scene of a presumed Suicide, send backup."
I stumbled backwards, the officer, Warren, having seen my expression reached out to try and steady me but I dodged his comforting hand and turned around, only to me faced with my brother's broad chest, or more specifically the band logo it sported.
"Mia—" he started, but I shook my head.
"No, no. I don't understand what they're saying and—"
He touched one of his large hands to the back of my neck and pulled me into him, his other hand finding the small of my back. "I saw her, Mimi."
I lifted my head up and stared up at my brother. "What do you mean you saw her? Darren, where is Maya? Is she okay?"
An agonized look crossed my brother's face; the same brother who'd spent his entire life being the brotherly equivalent of a helicopter parent. Always there to save the day and keep the two of us out of trouble.
"Mia—"
I shook my head, my legs finally giving out. I collapsed, my brother sinking to the ground with me as a choked sob broke passed my lips. "No! No!"
He only clutched me tighter against him, but I could feel his hand curl into a fist against my back as I sobbed into him.
The words didn't need to be said aloud, I think some part of me knew even before stepping inside the house. I knew the second I saw the rain spots on my sisters windshield, then heard the babies screaming. And of course, there was the smell, a stench that even after changing the kids still lingered. From what I knew, bodies didn't begin to decompose for at least a few days, which meant if I had come sooner, if I had rescheduled my mid term as she'd asked, she may be here. She may be alive.
My twin sister, my best friend, my other half, was gone. Her babies motherless before they even had a chance to know her.