In the hospital bed, I wake with a start. Screaming before my eyes adjust to the light in the room.

"James?" I scream. I clutch the bed sheets. Blood on his shirt. A hole in his chest. His eyes closing. Being pulled away.

Kicking and screaming as my body contracted.

Body.

Contracting.

I press my hand to my belly.

Is my baby still with us?

I shake, terrified. Alone. Screaming for a nurse. "Help me. Help," I call. An IV is in my arm, I am attached to all sorts of machines.

"It's okay," a soothing voice tells me. But they don't understand. Nothing is okay.

"Where is James? I need to see him." I try to get out of the bed, but the nurse is at my side, pressing a hand on my arm, trying to settle me. But she doesn't understand. This can't be settled with a whisper, with a calming tone—I need James. James alone.

"I understand," the nurse says. Her nametag reads Betty but her name means nothing to me right now.

There is only one name.

One name.

One.

"Where is he?" I ask again.

Betty nods as if understanding. "He’s in recovery."

I choke on my own tears, on relief. On hope.

I haven't lost hope.

"He's alive, then?"

Betty nods. "Yes, and if he hadn't had you in his arms, he might not be.”

"What do you mean?"

"You gave him something to fight for, sweetie."

Betty checks my chart, lifts my gown, and adjusts a heart monitor on my belly.

A heart monitor. I look at the screen Betty is reading. My heartbeat quickens. "Is my baby alive?"

She raises an eyebrow, twists her lips. She's an old woman, and with her sure movements and quick adjustments to my IV and monitor, I'm guessing she has delivered bad news a thousand times to patients.

She wouldn't twist her lip to tell me I'd lost my child.

Would she?

"What is it?" I plead. I need to know that my baby is okay, I need James back in my life, and I need to get home to my triplets.

It's been so long since I've seen their faces.

A sob escapes me, missing my children so deeply, having lost so much.

Scared I am losing more.

"Oh, dear, I didn't mean to worry you. I know you have been through so much. Everyone is talking about it. The local news channel has been reporting the story for hours. That compound wasn't just holding women hostage, they were practicing polygamy, embezzling money from the IRS and forcing teens into marriage."

I clench my jaw—knowing most of that. My shoulders sag, knowing so much of my life has been lost to a false religion.

"But Cherish, there is good that has come of your James rescuing you."

I lift my eyes to hers, searching for understanding.

"The FBI has seized the entire compound. Whatever horrible things were happening out there has been put to rest."

"How?" I shake my head still confused.

"I don't know all those details, dear." Betty shakes her head. "I shouldn't be saying all this anyway. Don't you want your happy news?" She taps the screen that is monitoring the heartbeat of my child.

"It survived?" I ask, already knowing it has. I feel the baby move inside me. "I was on bed rest my last pregnancy. But this time... I haven't been to a doctor and worried it was all my fault but I was so sca—"

"Shhh, it's okay. The heartbeats are strong— just like yours, and just like James's."

I bring a hand to my mouth, biting my knuckles in relief. "Thank God."

"But that isn't all." Betty raises her brow again.

"No?"

Betty shakes her head ever so slightly. "As far as we can tell, you must have been praying for a miracle."

I smile to myself, knowing that is exactly what I have been praying for.

"You are having triplets, again," Betty tells me. She pulls over the ultrasound machine and presses the wand to my belly. "See?"

Three little bodies light up the screen. It's beautiful, I never saw an ultrasound image with my last pregnancy, never having gone to a doctor besides our midwife.

"Triplets?" I can't help but laugh at the absurdity. At the wonder of it all. "And they are okay?"

Betty nods. "You'll need to be on bed rest, but if you can manage to do that for the rest of the pregnancy, you'll be able to go home. Though I’m sure the doctor will tell you all of that."

"And James?"

Betty pats my arm. "When he's out of recovery, we’ll make sure the two of you—" She gets cut off. Another nurse pokes her head in the room.

"Betty, he's out of recovery." She looks at me and smiles. "You’re one lucky woman everyone is talking about!"

I don't know if she is referring to the fact I was freed from a cult not once, but twice, or the fact I'm carrying triplets for the second time.

But then the nurse looks at me again. "The babies are lucky, of course— and so is the fact you are alive at all. But I was meaning you are lucky to have a man like James. He is one handsome—"

Now it's Betty who cuts her off. "Dana, that is completely inappropriate."

But I don't mind.

I know just how handsome James is.

I fell in love with him when I was just a girl, and under the oak tree he kissed my lips for the very first time and offered me his heart.

I didn't know how to take it then, how to hold on tight to the gift it was.

But now I know what I was unable to see when I was young.

A love like this is found once in a lifetime.

And I was lucky enough to find it with my best friend.

And I will never, ever, let go again.