One Last Time (COMPLETED)

Prologue

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.