“No,” he finally said in a voice so quiet, Whitney barely picked it up. His brokenness could be felt through the phone, like a tangible thing. Whitney had had years to mourn the baby she’d lost. For Dan, it was fresh. And no one knew better than Whitney how awful that felt.

Quietly, so as not to wake Millie, she moved fast. Her entire body trembled as if she were struck with a case of the chills as she set her own, unmoving baby into the crib beside Millie’s. With damp, shaky fingers she switched their tags. Then she scooped up the living baby, savoring its warmth.

“Hello, my sweet girl,” she whispered as she scurried out of the room and down the darkened hallway. “Amelia.” She tried out the name, allowing it to coat her tongue. It tasted sour. Wrong. But she knew in time it would be sweet again.

The tears flowed freely now, her shoulders shaking. “I’m so sorry, Dan.”

The dead can’t speak. They can’t give confessions. Share their version of events. No one but Whitney knew what really happened that night. So, it was up to her to tell the truth.

Millie sat in the middle of her hospital bed, crying into her open palms, her shoulders shaking. Whitney stood at the edge of the doorway, her insides knotting. She swallowed hard, but her mouth was still cotton dry.

“Millie?” she stepped inside.

When Millie’s head popped up, the whites of her eyes were strawberry red, the circles around them a sickly shade of gray, as if she’d been repeatedly punched. Sticky tears coated her skin.

“It’s Bethany,” she choked out the words between sobs. “She’s...she’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Dead.” The word was like a vacuum, sucking out all the air in the room.

“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry.” Whitney placed an icy, trembling hand on Millie’s arm. “How?”

“They’re saying SIDs, but that just means they have no idea.” She leaned in close. “They think I’m trash.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The nurses.” Her eyes were wild. “They know about my past, and it’s like they’re not taking me seriously at all.”

“I don’t think that’s...that can’t be.” A nurse passed by the room, glanced in warily, then looked away. Whitney blinked. “I’m sorry.” Dan had finally made it back to town. He’d come to take Amelia and Whitney home. They were just waiting on discharge papers. Amelia had been sleeping on his chest when Whitney left the room. She told him she needed to walk around, get blood flowing to her legs. But she couldn’t be gone long.

“Why don’t I go get you a soda. Pepsi still your favorite?”

“Oh, I don’t need caffeine right now,” Millie said.

“Orange juice, then? That might be good. Get something in your system?”

“Actually, a Pepsi sounds good.”