Together We Rise From Ashes

My sister and I were stranded on a deserted road, eight months pregnant and with a flat tire, when a truck' s headlights pinned us in their glare.It wasn't swerving to avoid us. It was aiming for us.The crash was a symphony of destruction. As a monstrous pain ripped through my pregnant belly, I called my husband, Kade, my voice choked with blood and fear. "Kade... accident... the baby... something' s wrong with the baby." But I didn't hear panic. I heard his stepsister, Florence, whining in the background about a headache.Then came Kade' s voice, cold as ice. "Stop being so dramatic. You probably just bumped a curb. Florence needs me." He hung up. He chose her over me, over his sister-in-law, over his own unborn child.I woke up in the hospital to two truths. My sister, a world-renowned pianist, would never play again. And our son, the baby I had carried for eight months, was gone.They thought we were just collateral damage in their perfect lives.They were about to find out we were the reckoning.