CHAPTER TWO Fifty-Seven Missed Calls
CHAPTER TWO
Fifty-Seven Missed Calls *118*
The funeral ended before sunset.
The rain stopped.
But the silence that followed was heavier than the storm itself.
Ella returned to the house she had once dreamed of filling with a child's laughter.
Now...
Every room echoed.
The nursery door remained half open.
Inside, moonlight spilled across a white crib that would never cradle its owner.
Tiny stuffed animals sat in perfect rows.
A mobile of little stars still turned slowly above the crib.
The batteries hadn't died yet.
Neither had Ella's memories.
She stepped inside.
Her fingers brushed across the folded baby blanket she had sewn herself.
On the bookshelf sat a framed ultrasound photo.
Thirty-two weeks.
A healthy baby boy.
The doctor had smiled that day.
"He's strong. He's kicking nonstop."
Ella had laughed through happy tears.
Noah had kissed her forehead.
"I'll always protect both of you."
Now...
The room felt like a museum dedicated to broken promises.
Downstairs...
Noah stood alone in the kitchen.
He hadn't taken off his black suit.
He hadn't eaten.
He hadn't slept.
The television remained muted.
Every news channel replayed the same footage.
Charles carrying Megan's white Persian cat from a burning apartment.
Noah examining the cat while smiling for reporters.
CITY HEROES SAVE PET FROM DEADLY FIRE
The headline flashed across the screen.
Noah grabbed the remote.
He threw it against the wall.
CRASH!
The television went black.
His reflection stared back at him from the shattered screen.
For the first time in years...
He hated the man looking back.
His phone vibrated.
Olivia.
His younger sister.
The woman who had desperately called him from the hospital.
He answered immediately.
"...Olivia."
Her voice was cold.
"Come to the hospital."
Before Noah could ask why...
The call ended.
Thirty minutes later...
Noah walked into St. Matthew Medical Center.
Doctors who usually greeted him with admiration now avoided eye contact.
Nurses stopped talking as he passed.
The respect was gone.
Only judgment remained.
Olivia was waiting inside the conference room.
Her eyes were swollen from crying.
A thick folder rested on the table.
She pushed it toward him.
"Open it."
Noah slowly sat down.
Inside were printed phone records.
Pages.
And pages.
And pages.
He frowned.
"What is this?"
Olivia's voice trembled.
"The calls you never answered."
Noah looked down.
One page.
Then another.
Then another.
His breathing slowed.
Every page showed the same number.
Ella.
Olivia.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
His thumb began to shake.
"Fifty-seven..."
he whispered.
Olivia nodded.
"Fifty-seven missed calls."
She slid another sheet across the table.
"Twenty-three text messages."
Another page.
"Eleven voice messages."
Another.
"The first call came at 2:13 p.m."
"The baby's heart stopped at 3:41."
Noah felt the room spinning.
"I..."
"I never saw these..."
Olivia's expression hardened.
"No."
"You chose not to."
She pressed a button on her laptop.
The first voicemail played.
Static.
Heavy breathing.
Then Ella's frightened voice.
"Noah..."
"I think something's wrong..."
"I can't stop bleeding..."
The recording ended.
The second voicemail began.
Olivia's voice screamed through the speakers.
"NOAH!"
"THIS ISN'T A JOKE!"
"ELLA IS LOSING THE BABY!"
"We need you now!"
Another recording.
More panic.
Then another.
And another.
The last voicemail lasted only nine seconds.
No shouting.
No crying.
Only Ella's weak whisper.
"...Tell him..."
"...I waited..."
Silence.
The recording ended.
Noah couldn't breathe.
His hands covered his face.
"Oh God..."
"Oh God..."
Olivia wasn't finished.
She opened another file.
Security footage.
The hospital parking lot.
An ambulance screeched to a stop.
Paramedics rushed Ella inside.
Blood soaked the stretcher.
Doctors sprinted beside her.
Olivia froze the video.
"There."
She pointed toward the timestamp.
2:56 p.m.
"This is when I called you again."
The footage continued.
Olivia could be seen dialing repeatedly.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Every call...
Rejected.
Noah stared at the screen.
"I..."
"I didn't reject them..."
Olivia reached into her pocket.
She placed another phone on the table.
Megan's phone.
Recovered after the fire investigation.
"I thought you'd say that."
She opened the call history.
Every incoming call from Ella...
Had been manually declined.
Every one.
Noah looked confused.
"How is that possible?"
Olivia met his eyes.
"Because while you were comforting Megan..."
"You handed her your phone."
The room fell completely silent.
Noah's face turned pale.
Fragments of memory suddenly crashed together.
Megan crying.
Holding his arm.
Saying she couldn't calm down.
Asking,
"Can I borrow your phone? Mine died."
He hadn't thought twice.
His stomach twisted violently.
"No..."
"No..."
"It can't be..."
Olivia leaned closer.
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"I checked the security cameras."
"You know what I saw?"
Noah slowly lifted his head.
"Megan never made a single phone call."
"She wasn't using your phone."
"She wasn't texting."
"She spent forty-three minutes..."
"...doing only one thing."
She turned the laptop around.
Security footage from the fire scene appeared.
Megan sat quietly on the curb.
Noah's phone rested in her lap.
Every few seconds...
The screen lit up.
Incoming Call.
Decline.
Incoming Call.
Decline.
Incoming Call.
Decline.
Incoming Call.
Decline.
She never even looked at the caller's name.
She simply smiled...
and pressed the red button.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Noah felt every drop of blood drain from his face.
The phone slipped from his hand and hit the floor.
His lips trembled.
"She knew..."
Olivia nodded slowly.
"Yes."
"She knew someone was dying."
"And she made sure..."
"...you would never answer."
Across the city...
Inside her luxury apartment...
Megan poured herself a glass of red wine.
She stood before a wall-sized window overlooking the glittering skyline.
Behind her...
The burned metal box sat open on the dining table.
She gently touched the old photograph inside.
For a brief moment...
Her eyes softened.
Then...
Her phone buzzed.
A single message.
He knows.
Megan smiled.
Not with fear.
Not with regret.
But with quiet satisfaction.
She typed only four words before putting the phone away.
May you like
Exactly as I planned.
END OF CHAPTER TWO
_____By HN118____
