My sister.
It goes through my head over and over again. My sister? I want to think they have the wrong number, but of course they don't. They'd asked for me by name.
Plus, a part of me has always been dreading this inevitable phone call.
We lost her when we were thirteen.
We, my parent's and I, always knew in the back of our minds that this phone call would happen one day. I'd just always hoped I wouldn't be the one to have to answer.
My first instinct is to want to call Mom. But she's gone. My next is to call Aunt Bec, but she's gone now too.
This burden now falls to me.
"When was the last time you spoke to your sister?" The woman asks me, the tone and volume of her voice makes me think she's already asked me this.
"I, uh." I close my eyes trying to think. "The last time I saw her was when we were sixteen." I tell her and she makes a small sound.
"And the last time you spoke to her?" She asks again and I pace the room nervously.
"When we were sixteen." I tell her again. "She ran away." I explain. "She's Schizophrenic. She got bad into drugs and we couldn't-my-our parents did everything trying to find her." I say, wanting the woman to know how hard we had all tried.
"I see." The woman says softly.
"Where is her body?" I ask, trying to school my mind into a work sense. Trying to not let my emotions run through me but instead to step back and look at the situation clinically. At least for now. "I work for Moundville Memorial," I trudge on. "I'd like the body brought here. We have a family burial-."
"Miss Maxwell," she cuts me off. "I think we misunderstood each other here. Your sister isn't dead."
I feel like I've slammed into a brick wall. "Wait, she's not?" I put a hand to my forehead. "I don't understand."
"I'm calling about the baby."
"The what?" I gasp into the phone.
"Your sister was pregnant." She explains in a rush. "She abandoned the baby at a Wendy's with an employee and she left. It's been a couple of days, but we located your sister. She ended up having to be admitted to a hospital here in Texas due to complications she sustained giving birth to the child out of the hospital. She's stable now, but the baby cannot be with her. She had copious amounts of opioids in her system. I'm contacting you as next of kin."
I stand, dazed. All attempts at looking at this with any type of rationality flys right out of the window as my brain slowly processes what she's just told me.
My sister is alive.
She's in Texas.
She had a baby.
She abandoned her baby.
"I don't understand." It's the only thing I can manage to force out of my mouth.
"Well, I'm handing this case and we are looking to place the child with a family member until this can all be sorted out."
"Wait a second," I start laughing. "This is a joke, right? Someone put you up to this? It's a sick one, but I'll admit, you had me going there for a second."
"I assure you, Miss. Maxwell, this is no joke." The woman says, sounding perturbed. "I'm contacting you as next of kin." She says haughtily. "If you cannot take over as guardian for the time being, the baby will be placed into a temporary home."
