Glenn leaned back in his old rocking chair and took a deep breath of the morning air. A yellow oriole perched atop the steeple across the street and chirped at him—at least, he liked to think it was chirping at him. He took a quiet sip of the cold beverage in his mug and leaned back in his rocker once more, allowing the motion to carry him back and forth. 

The bird chirped again, but the shrill voice of a child caused it to startle and take flight, vanishing somewhere behind the old church. Glenn sighed and took another deep breath of humid air, allowing himself to experience the last calm moments of the morning before they were gone.

“Sue! Put that down! Girls, eat your breakfast! No, Sophie—” Bernadette’s thundering voice broke the silence of the morning, even managing to overshadow the commotion his daughters made. Confident his quiet time of contemplation was over, Glenn stood and placed his mug on the arm of the rocker, then turned and charged into the house. “How are my girls doing today?” he called out with open arms. 

“Papa!” The eldest of the children yelled. She hopped out of her seat at the wooden breakfast table and charged toward her father. Glenn snatched his little girl up and spun her around in three circles before plopping her back down on the floor. She waddled off, laughing and dizzy. “That’s enough, everyone. Girls, finish your breakfast; you’re already late for school.”

The sisters eyed their father while they enthusiastically gulped down their breakfast of Doubles, but were kept in their seats by the stern words of their mother. Bernadette strode across the kitchen and joined Glenn at the counter. She rubbed his arm lovingly as she watched her children at the table, and when she was satisfied they had eaten enough, she released them. “Backpacks!” she called, and without any further fanfare, the girls hopped from the table and grabbed their individual backpacks, all adorned with different princesses and marker stains. 

Glenn remained at the counter while Bernadette walked to the front door and held it open for the small clan. The children shot out onto the front porch, and after looking both ways, dashed across the street to the front of the church. Another group of children their age was waiting for them, and all of the girls were received happily. 

“Be careful!” Bernadette called as Glenn joined her on the front porch. When his wife was finished waving to her daughters, he handed her a mug filled with tea. She took it gratefully and cupped her fingers around it, but Glenn could tell something was on her mind. “What’s wrong?”

“I wish they had better,” Bernadette sighed, watching her last daughter duck out of sight around a corner. 

“What’s better than Trinidad? The sun, the family, the dancing,” Glenn wiggled his eyebrows and swayed his hips, eliciting a chuckle from Bernadette. Her lips drew up in a loving smile, but her concern quickly overtook the expression. She walked across the porch and sat in a rocker, staring into an infinite space only her eyes could see. 

Glenn lifted the mug from his rocker and slid it over next to Bernadette’s. “We could move,” he suggested, resuming his position in the chair. Bernadette looked at him, and for a moment her expression was neutral—but then she broke out into laughter. Glenn’s face didn’t change. “No, I’m serious. We both have family in New York, I can get a good job, you and the girls are good at making friends—I don’t think the transition would be that hard.”

She laid her head on his shoulder and was silent for a while. “Have I ever told you about my grandfather?” 

“Sure you have, plenty of times.” Glenn took a sip from his mug and directed his attention toward the church across the street, knowing where her story is about to go. 

“What would he think, I wonder?” Bernadette asked wistfully. 

“About giving our children a better life?”

“About leaving here.” Bernadette straightened up. “He was one of the largest landowners in Trinidad in the eighteen-hundreds. When the Catholic church came, he donated the land that almost all of them are built on. He even owned that piece of land, right there,” she motioned to the church across the street. Three clergymen moved around in front of the church, sweeping the sidewalk. One waved to the family, causing Bernadette and Glenn to both raise their hand in greeting. “What would he think about us leaving the church we’re so active in—one he helped build?”

“If it’s for the good of our children, I don’t think he would mind. Plus, if it isn’t meant to be, God will let us know,” Glenn pushed back in his rocker and let it rock forward. He enjoyed the ride a few moments while Bernadette thought it over. When he didn’t hear any words of dissent, he knew he’d gotten through. “I’ll talk to my brother and see if he has any leads on available houses.”

Bernadette sighed and looked at her husband, studying his face. She leaned over and took his hand, gently running her thumb over his knuckles. “Are we doing this?”

“We’re doing this,” Glenn smiled, “We’re moving to America.” 

***

Glenn rocked back and forth in his chair, mug in hand, and breathing in the cool morning air. An American goldfinch lit on the powerline in front of him, but its chirp was overlaid with the sounds of distant car engines rumbling in rush-hour traffic. He sipped his steaming coffee, vaguely aware of the quiet commotion inside. “Mom!” Sue called. Though her voice was muted behind the wall, Glenn knew her arrival only preceded the arrival of the rest of his daughters. 

He had barely stood from his chair when Sue came shooting out the front door. She hugged him and planted a kiss on his cheek, then hopped from the front porch on her way to school. “Have a good day, honey!” Glenn called. 

He watched her until she turned a corner and left his sight. Deciding his morning had begun, Glenn turned and started into the house but jumped out of the way of his two youngest daughters. They hugged and kissed him, and went on their way as Sue had. When he made it into the kitchen, only Bernadette and Sophie were left. 

His eldest daughter stood near the sink with her lower back propped against the counter. She watched her mother meticulously organize her purse and absentmindedly rested her hand on her stomach—her baby bump was beginning to be noticeable. “They grow up so fast,” he sighed. 

“You’re telling me. It’s already been six months—I feel like I have a watermelon in there,” Sophie grinned. She reached to the side and took a shiny red apple from the top of a black wire basket, then turned on the sink. After she had thoroughly washed the fruit, she bit into it. 

“I know you’re eating more than that,” Bernadette looked up from organizing her purse and spoke to her daughter in a stern tone—the type she knew Sophie couldn’t ignore. 

“Come on, Mom! It’s my first day of work, I’m short on time, and my sisters didn’t eat anything, so you can’t say anything about it to me.” Sophie finished by retrieving her father’s briefcase and handing it to him. “Now, let’s go! I don’t want to be late.”

“I swear, she’s just like you,” Bernadette rolled her eyes and slung her purse over her shoulder. Glenn looked at Sophie and wiggled his eyebrows, then together they followed Bernadette out the door. 

***

“On my first day, I broke the coffee machine and flooded the breakroom. No one could go in there for three hours because the floor was sticky and the custodian was late coming in.” Bernadette and Sophie laughed, drawing a few dirty looks from people sprinkled throughout the somber, early-morning subway train. They waved their apologies, but their smiles didn’t leave their faces. “Really, Dad?” Sophie asked.

Glenn nodded his head, grinning. “So, if my first day was that bad, yours won’t come anything close to that.”

Sophie leaned her head against the window. “I don’t know. I am your daughter—messing things up is in my blood.”

“Hey!” Glenn feigned offense. “That comes from your mother’s side.”

“That’s enough, your two,” Bernadette looked between her husband and daughter with an expression they couldn’t quite decipher. Sensing she was at her limit, they both smiled and sank into silence. 

A few moments later, a loud chime sounded throughout the car. “That’s my stop,” Sophie remarked. She stood up and waddled over to the door, joining the gathering crowd. “You’re going to do great, alright?” Bernadette offered. 

“I know I will,” Sophie nodded. The car slowed to a stop and the doors slid open, releasing the passengers into the subway station. Sophie waved to her parents until the crowd carried her out of sight. 

“I’m so proud of her,” Bernadette sighed. The chime sounded once more, and the car slowly began its forward journey.

“Following in her father’s footsteps. It truly is enough to make a grown man cry,” Glenn acted like he wiped away tears from his cheeks. Bernadette playfully swatted him. “Oh, quit it. She always had an interest in that—it wasn’t you and your strewn-about paperwork that got her into it.”

“Are you sure about that?” Glenn shrugged. He helped his wife up, and they stood together until the car slowed again. They hugged each other bye, and by the time the doors slid open, Bernadette was the first one off. “Good luck today!” Glenn called over the heads of disembarking passengers. Bernadette threw her hand up in acknowledgment, but it didn’t take long for her to get lost in the crowd. 

***

Bernadette nodded her head in greeting as the doorman opened the door to Five World Trade Center. She strode into the lobby, passing both the Children’s Discovery Center and HSBC Bank, and reached the Chase Bank Trading Floor. Large televisions lined the walls high above her, streaming ever-changing financial information in real-time. She paid them no mind—as a supervisor, she was accustomed to seeing the information day in and day out. 

She stepped into a small hallway off-shooting from the main lobby and clocked into work. “Morning Brenda, Francis,” she called over her shoulder to the two women standing in the break room. “Good morning Bernadette!” Francis called back, waving her free hand. The women watched their coworker step a few doors down and enter her office. 

Bernadette shut the door behind her and placed her purse on the floor beside her desk. She spent a few minutes organizing her desk for the coming day, and when she was satisfied with her work, she reached down and grasped a small handle at her knee. She opened the drawer and inside was an old, worn bible. Her fingers gently lifted the frail book and placed it on top of her desk, and almost autonomously flipped to Psalms 91. She glanced at the clock—it was eight fifty-three. Content with her timing, she looked at the yellowed pages and found the line of text she was looking for. “He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty…” she muttered quietly. 

***

“How are you liking work?” Sophie’s younger sister Trish asked. Sophie opened her mouth to answer, but Sue beat her to it. “Are they treating you well? Do I need to beat anyone up? Any men?” The feisty girl sat up in her seat and puffed out her chest, trying her best to look intimidating. 

The other three sisters laughed, and when Sophie regained her composure, she spoke. “No, sis; everyone is treating me just fine.” She rested her hand on her stomach for emphasis. “Everyone is actually very nice to me. I think the pregnancy definitely helps—I mean, who’s going to tell the pregnant lady she can’t go have a fourth granola bar from the break room?”

A loud chime served as her reply. The sisters stood when the car came to a stop and waited for the doors to slide open. They made their way across the subway station and climbed the stairs slowly, making sure they didn’t leave Sophie. She was panting when she reached the top, and breathlessly remarked, “From now on, I’m taking the elevator.” 

The sisters strolled across the city until they reached the World Trade Center. They stopped at a crosswalk waiting for the light to change, but Sue suddenly grabbed Sophie’s arm and hauled her down the street. “What are you doing?” she asked. 

“Look! Who are they?” Sue asked, pointing subtly at the fire station across the street. 

“Just some firemen,” Sophie shrugged. Sue’s mouth fell open and she looked at her sister, bewildered. “Just some firemen? Look at those men!” Sue made a grandiose gesture in their direction. Six firemen walked around the front of the firehall, washing two of their fire engines. 

One of the firemen looked up, then got the attention of his teammates—they all saw the group of girls, and they were all smiling. Sophie shook her head. “Well, we don’t have a choice now,” she grinned. 

“Are you boys out here every day washing these fine vehicles, or did you do it just because you knew we were swinging by?” Sue asked, strutting ahead of her sisters. Sophie stopped short of the firehall and rolled her eyes, but it was too late—the firemen were seizing their opportunity. 

“If we’d have known you girls were coming by, we would’ve dressed better!” the first fireman smiled. “I’m James, pleasure to meet you,” he said, extending his hand to Sue. She giggled and accepted his handshake, and grinned uncontrollably when his strong fingers closed around hers. 

“I hope you boys are behaving,” an older voice spoke. From inside the firehall emerged an older gentleman, and though he wasn’t dressed the part, Sophie could tell he had the presence of a priest. “Oh,” he said, taking in the group of girls. “I’m Father Michael; it’s nice to meet you ladies. What brings you to the city?”

“My sister works up there,” Sue motioned to the South Tower. Father Michael craned his neck and peered up to where Sue was pointing. “Ah, that’s quite a feat. Which floor does she work on?”

“Ninety-second,” Sophie said, stepping forward. Father Michael widened his eyes and twisted his mouth. 

“I could never!” he exclaimed, “You’re a brave woman.”

“Th—” Sophie started.

“Come on, we don’t have all day! We have shopping to do!” Trish spoke up, tugging on Sophie’s hand. 

“And lunch,” Sue said. She grinned at James, but Trish quickly grabbed her hand and tugged her away. The girls waved to the firemen before they crossed the street toward the South Tower. 

***

Sophie stepped out of her boss’s office holding a check. Her sisters broke out in cheers and applause, but Sophie quickly shushed them before they could disrupt anyone. While on the way back to the elevator, she asked, “Where do we want to eat?”

“How about Windows on the World?” Sue suggested. She ran ahead and pressed the call button for the elevator. The number above the silver door read seventy-seven—they had a minute or two to wait. All of the sisters seemed receptive to the idea, except Sophie. The eldest sister shook her head. “That’s in the other tower, and that’s a whole other elevator ride. “Let’s go shopping first and then decide where to eat—we’ll have plenty of chances to eat there anyway.”

After a moment of consideration, the sisters agreed. They stepped onto the elevator, the doors slid shut, and they began their descent. 

***

Bernadette and Sophie sat in neighboring seats, but neither of them spoke. Glenn stood quietly in front of them, one hand wrapped around a pole and the other holding his suitcase. He stared at the back of someone’s newspaper, trying his hardest to read the tiny text without being noticed. 

The chime overhead signaled it was Sophie’s stop. The young woman stood up and slid past her mother, then gave her father a quick hug before stepping off the subway car and into the station. A few moments later the chime sounded again, and the car was in motion. 

Glenn kissed his wife on the cheek as she stood to exit at her stop, and they shared a wordless parting. 

Bernadette was quiet as she clocked into work, and none of her coworkers seemed to be around. She took the opportunity to step into the break room and grab a granola bar for later, then journeyed onward to her office. The clock read eight forty-five as she began her prayer. “He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High—”

“What?” Francis’s panicked voice broke Bernadette’s concentration. She looked up from her bible and saw her coworker dart across the hallway toward the lobby She narrowed her eyes and stared at the space between her partially-open door for a few moments longer, but after a few seconds looked back to her bible.

She opened her mouth to continue the prayer, but another rapidly-moving body shot past her door, and a growing commotion on the Trading Floor was too much for her to continue. She slid the bible back in her desk and stood, pushing her way out of the office, intent on finding out what everyone was so interested in.

Bernadette covered her mouth and stood in shocked silence as all the televisions showed a live broadcast from CNN. The North Tower was on fire, with the back half of a plane barely visible behind the thick columns of black smoke. She looked around, but no one’s faces were smiling, no one was laughing. It didn’t make sense—this was some elaborate joke, so why was no one laughing?

Bernadette stumbled as a woman pushed past, tears streaming down her face and a cellphone pressed to her ear. Bernadette suddenly jumped into action, snapped from her stupor. She ran back to her office and dumped the contents of her purse out on her desk. Within moments her fingers snatched up her phone, and with shaking fingers she dialed Sophie’s number. 

Bernadette anxiously paced the length of her office waiting for the call to connect, but after a few seconds of listening to the dial tone, the familiar robotic voice spoke to her. “The number you have dialed is not available. At the tone, please record—”

Bernadette smashed the button to end the call and ran back out to the lobby floor. The televisions showed various news agencies, all streaming different angles of the same tragedy. While fighting to keep the bile from rising in her throat, Bernadette’s fingers deftly dialed Glenn’s number. 

She found herself pacing in tight circles as the dial tones continued to ring out in their predictable pattern. On the fifth ring, she let out a puff of air and laughed in relief, but her voice was rough from holding back tears. “Honey?” Glenn asked over the phone. He could tell something was wrong.

“Have you seen the news?” Bernadette choked out.

“I—No, what’s on the news?”

“Get to a television,” she said quietly. In the background, she could hear her husband shuffling around and mumbling to coworkers, and eventually the sound of a small group of them moving in unison. Bernadette could tell when they were watching the news—they were all silent, and a small voice was talking, coming from the television. “I can’t reach Sophie,” Bernadette said. At the mention of her daughter’s name, tears flooded from her eyes. Her throat felt tight and her nose felt hot. She wiped her eyes as she listened to the subtle movements of her husband on the other end of the phone. “Sophie will call you eventually. She’s fine. Don’t worry, dear.” Glenn’s words echoed through silence, only complemented by the newscaster’s voice on television. 

“I’m sure you’re right,” Bernadette breathed. She tried her best to slow her thumping heart and loosen her throat. 

“I’m going to try to reach her, alright? I’ll call you if I hear anything, and you do the same.”

“Okay,” Bernadette nodded, even though her husband couldn’t see her. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

***

“I’m sure she’s fine. Sophie is a tough girl—you raised her well,” Brenda said. She stood with her hand on Bernadette’s back and rubbed her reassuringly. Francis stood next to them talking to her husband on the phone. “Yes, we’re safe. They don’t want us to evacuate yet, but I think they’re evacuating the North and South tower. They’re—What?”

The color drained from Francis’s face, and she let the phone hang limply at her side. Goosebumps prickled across Bernadette’s skin—something was wrong. Francis covered her mouth with her free hand, then turned her gaze to the televisions on the Trading Floor. Tears leaked from her eyes. 

Bernadette followed her eyes to the television just in time to see a second plane come into view and crash into the South Tower. Screams erupted around the lobby, but the loudest was Bernadette’s. Her wail was the cry of a mother losing a child. She turned and ran toward the door, but Brenda gripped her arm tightly and slung her around. Bernadette looked at her with red eyes and a wet face. “No, they’ll evacuate. We need to stay put—we don’t know if there’s going to be more attacks; it might not be safe out there,” Brenda said, looking deeply at her coworker.

Bernadette jerked her arm from Brenda’s grasp and picked up her phone. She quickly dialed Glenn’s number; he immediately picked up. “I know; I saw. I’m sure she’s fine, honey. I’m on my way, sit tight. I’m going to find her.” 

With a shaking hand, Bernadette lowered the phone from her face. Brenda slipped it from her grasp and ended the call for her. Bernadette bowed her head and collapsed into Brenda’s chest, crying.

***

Sophie lowered her head and studied the paperwork on her desk. The intricate designs were something foreign to other people, but to her, they were art. She traced the lines with her eyes, using years of second-hand knowledge she had learned from sitting in her father’s lap watching him work on architectural contracts.

She winced as someone in the cubicle next to her stood rapidly and moved away noisily. She placed her right hand on her forehead and massaged her skin with her fingers as she leaned lower to concentrate on her work. 

“Evacuate! A plane has hit the tower!” A loud voice erupted across the office. The normal, quiet ambiance of the office was overtaken by utterances of confusion and fear. Sophie rolled back in her chair and watched a steady stream of her coworkers file toward the elevator. She looked on, confused, but then saw smoke rising from the window beyond.

A man approached her—her boss. “Sophie, you need to leave.”

“What’s happening?” she asked, still confused. 

“We…” he sighed, “we don’t know for sure yet, but we think the tower has been struck by a plane. We need everyone to evacuate.” His gaze slid down to her stomach. He searched her with his eyes for a moment, then, “I need you to evacuate.”

Sophie motioned back to her work. “But you told me this needs to be done by—”

“Sophie,” her boss said sternly. He didn’t leave room for argument. She nodded her head and stood from her desk. “Stay safe,” he said, then walked away.  

Sophie walked with the crowd of her coworkers, but an itch started at the back of her neck, then morphed into a tingling that danced across her skin, almost tangible, but not quite discernable. She stood still as the flood of people poured around her; some gave her dirty looks for clogging up the flow of traffic. She studied the crowd forming at the two elevator doors, and then turned her head toward the stairs. While some people were opting to take the stairs, a good majority of her coworkers were waiting on the elevator. 

She shivered, and the world felt like it moved in slow motion. Something in her clicked, and she knew: If I take the elevator, I will die. Do not take the elevator. Take the stairs. 

She recovered and looked around—it felt like the world moved at a normal speed again. Taking a deep breath and straightening up, she made her way through the crowd and started down the stairwell. 

***

Sophie’s tired foot stepped off the concrete stair and onto the seventy-eighth-floor landing. She wrinkled her eyes in a sneer as she passed the white and black sign next to the door, but the flow of traffic wouldn’t allow her to slow for long. Walking as fast as she could with her pregnant belly and swollen feet, she stepped onto the next concrete stair and began her descent once more. 

Just before she reached the landing of the seventy-seventh-floor, she saw an elderly woman standing off to the side, forced into the corner to avoid the flow of traffic. With a furrowed brow, Sophie stepped onto the landing and approached the woman. She had to press her shoulder against the wall to keep from being caught in the current. “Are you alright, ma’am?” 

The older woman shifted on her feet, uncomfortable due to her weight. She shook her head and waved away Sophie’s concern. “I’m fine—I just can’t go down any more stairs, and you won’t dare get me on one of those overpacked elevators. With my luck, I’d tip the sensor!” the older woman laughed. 

“You and me both,” Sophie smiled and placed her hands on her stomach, but her gaze kept drifting to the people fleeing the building. “But I do think it’s important we leave. They say a plane has struck the tower.”

“Ah, they’ll tell you anything if it means they practice these ridiculous drills.” Sophie smiled politely but didn’t answer. After a few moments, the woman continued. “Do you remember that bombing eight years ago? A truck drove under the Towers and exploded in the garage. They evacuated the entire building, and by that afternoon they had us all working again. I had to climb fifty floors, down and up! It was hard on my legs then, just imagine it now!” She watched Sohpie’s face for a reaction, but she didn’t receive one—instead, the young woman was watching the people fleeing past them. “Honey, if you want to leave, you can. You’ve done enough for an old woman. Just showing that you care is enough.”

Sophie turned her head and looked deeply at her companion. The woman shifted on her feet uncomfortably, and thin trails of sweat beaded on her forehead from the heat of the stairwell. Sophie’s face hardened and her determination was steeled. She shook her head. “No, I’ll stay here with you,” she said. She shifted and stood beside the older woman, watching the trail of bodies sweep noisily down the stairs. 

***

The classroom was silent, save for the quiet breathing of the students and teacher intensely watching the flickering television screen. Everyone sat still in their desks, horrified by the images of the two smoking towers. 

Suddenly—exclamations broke out across the school. Everyone watched in horror as Tower One shuddered and then collapsed. The entire ordeal lasted less than ten seconds, but in that span of time, Sue had made her decision. She popped up from her desk and looked directly at her teacher. “Can I leave?”

“You absolutely cannot,” the teacher said, “The school is on lockdown for your safety. We don’t know if—”

Sue’s face contorted as her teacher denied her request. She leaped from her desk and crossed the classroom in four sweeping bounds, and pushed her way out of the room. “Sue!” The teacher’s voice echoed down the hall, but the young woman made no attempts to slow her pace—until a muscular hand gripped her arm and slung her around. 

She came to a stop facing a large man in neat dress clothes—the school counselor. “Sue, where do you think you’re going?”

“My mom and sister are in the towers. I need to see them!”

The counselor’s face sank at her remark, and he nervously looked around. When he saw no support elsewhere, he lowered himself to her level. “Sue, the safest place for you is here. What if there’s another attack, and you’re caught out on the street?”

“I don’t care!” Sue exclaimed. She ripped her arm from his grasp and turned to run, but the counselor’s nimble fingers hooked the back of her shirt and kept her from getting far. “Sue, I can’t let you—”

Sue was at her wit’s end. She turned on the counselor with her fist balled and launched it into his stomach, hard. His fingers went limp as he doubled over coughing, giving Sue just enough time to put distance between them. She shot past him to a door and pushed her way out onto the street.

***

If the floor hadn’t been carpeted, Sophie’s footsteps would’ve echoed. She felt chills climbing up her back as she crept through the cubicles in search of a break room. 

She spotted a coffee machine through an open door and wound her way to the room without any impedances. She located two cups and a water cooler and filled them with ice-cold water. On her quiet journey back to the stairwell, she saw no one—the floor had been completely evacuated.

“Thank you, dear,” the older woman smiled when Sophie handed her the cup. She gratefully put the cup to her lips and drank for a few seconds. The heat in the stairwell made it hard to breathe, and sweat accumulated on both their foreheads. A man hurriedly ran down the stairwell past them, but other than that, they were left alone. “You know, you remind me of my grandkids,” the older woman said wistfully. 

“Yeah?” Sophie asked. 

The woman nodded. “They’re much younger than you, but they have hearts just as good as yours.”

“Do you get to see them often?”

The woman’s deep laugh shook her entire body. “My, I get to see them every day!” After a few moments, her smile faded. A look of uncomfortable reminiscing found its way onto her face. “My daughter...she found her vice in life. She got addicted to drugs and couldn’t take care of my grand-babies, so they ended up with me. I don’t mind it though—they bring so much joy to my life.”

Sophie smiled and leaned her head against the wall. She placed her hand on her stomach, cradling her unborn baby. “I can tell you love them.”

“I can tell you love them,” the old woman countered, motioning to Sophie’s stomach with her chin. “How far along are you?” 

“Six months,” she announced proudly. “It hasn’t been easy, but all of the hardships are worth it—God only gives us what we can handle.”

“Amen,” the woman smiled. “Do you know what you’re having?” 

Sophie looked at her stomach. “I know I’m having a boy. I haven’t had an ultrasound, but I can feel it, you know?”

“I remember wh—” the old woman started.

“What are you two still doing here? You need to evacuate!” A man pushed his way out of the seventy-seventh-floor office and looked at Sophie and the older woman like they were crazy. A woman followed behind him, and surprisingly, their white skin was unblemished—no sweat or dust found its way onto them. 

“Oh, honey, this is just a drill. I can’t walk all the way down and all the way back up. Unless you can get me an elevator, I’m not going anywhere!” 

“Anyone who took an elevator perished,” the white woman said solemnly. She looked to her partner, and then to Sophie. Her expression dropped when she saw Sophie’s pregnant stomach. “You need to evacuate.”

“I’ll be fine,” Sophie waved away their concerns, “Plus, I wanted to—”

“No. You need to evacuate,” the woman said sternly. She looked at Sophie hard, challenging her to speak back. Sophie’s brow creased and she looked between the two newcomers; their presence radiated a feeling Sophie couldn’t quite understand. “We’ll stay with her,” the man smiled, walking toward the older woman. She smiled. “It’s fine, dear. Go, save your baby.”

Sophie nodded hesitantly and continued to the stairs, urged on by a feeling she couldn’t quite comprehend. When she reached the seventy-sixth-floor landing, she looked up. The trio was still visible—if she held her head at the right angle. Feeling relieved they were still in sight, she turned and continued down the stairs. 

***

Bernadette wrung her fingers nervously as they continued watching the news feed. Both towers were belching black smoke, and the commotion on the street outside her building was nearly overwhelming. 

Francis and Brenda stood nearby, both taken by the devastation and brought to silence moments before. 

“C—Can we pray?” Bernadette asked. Her coworkers were jolted from their horrified trances and looked at the shaking mother. The desperation on Bernadette’s face was palpable. “Of course,” Brenda said. She took Bernadette’s hand in one hand, and Francis’s in the other. Together they lowered their heads and began muttering Psalms 91 over Bernadette’s family. 

“No!” The first scream led the chaotic din that rose around the room. The trio looked up and watched in horror as Tower One gave way and crumbled to the ground. Bernadette couldn’t help but scream in unison. Francis unhooked her hands from Bernadette’s and Brenda’s. She looked at them hard before she said, “I’m going to find your daughter. I promise you, I’m going to find her.” She left before Brenda or Bernadette could argue, and they watched her escape the Trading Floor and join the chaos on the street outside. Brenda tightly took Bernadette’s shaking hands and bowed her head. She prayed loudly while Bernadette watched her, and then bowed her head to join her coworker in praying.

***

Glenn pushed through the growing, chaotic crowd and stepped down into the subway station. He stopped on the bottom stair and looked over everyone’s head. There was at least a forty-foot wall of people between him and the tracks. “God help me,” he mumbled. 

“Tell me about it, buddy,” a voice replied. Glenn looked down and saw a homeless man sitting against the wall with his legs drawn up in front of him to keep from getting stepped on. “Everyone’s wanting to take the last train before they stop running.”

“Stop running?” Glenn demanded. He felt his heart thumping harder in his chest. 

“Yeah, this is the last train before they shut it all down. Do you need to be somewhere?”

“My daughter is in Tower Two!” Glenn yelled. “I need to get to the Towers! My daughter is in there!” The words left his mouth unconsciously as he pushed through the crowd and fought to make it to the trains. While some ignored his words, the desperation in the father’s voice was enough to make some people give way and allow him through. 

He reached the train door and tried to fight his way on, but a large, burly man stood in his way. “Please, my daughter is in the Towers!” Glenn pleaded. 

The man turned and looked him up and down. Above them, the chime signaling the closing of the doors sounded throughout the car. “Please…” Glenn’s voice wavered. The burly man moved back, giving the desperate father just enough room to slip through the door before it closed. Complaints rose loudly from people getting crushed in the crowd, but Glenn didn’t care—he was going to find his daughter.

***

Sophie sucked in a deep breath as she stepped onto the seventy-fifth-floor landing. Only a matter of two floors increased the heat in the stairwell exponentially, and beads of sweat accumulated on her arms. She wiped her forehead and winced as sweat entered her eyes.

She turned and started down the stairs to reach the seventy-fourth-floor, but suddenly found her pace slowed by a woman holding a large handbag. The woman’s steps were slow and her breathing was erratic, and she took the stairs as quickly as her high-heeled shoes would allow her. 

Sophie found herself directly behind the woman, eager to pass her—she was able to see smoke rising in the stairwell now. “Excuse me,” she said and found her opening. As she slid by the woman and her giant handbag, she turned her head. “Do you smell that sweet smell?”

“I—No?” Sophie asked, caught off guard. The woman stepped down onto the seventy-fourth-floor landing and took in a deep breath. “Oh, it’s so wonderful, but I hope it isn’t the sweet smell of Jesus because that means we aren’t going to make it.”

Sophie stared at her companion for a moment, unable to reply. When she finally did open her mouth to answer, a man came flying down the stairs and knocked Sophie out of the way. She cried out and flailed her arms, trying to catch herself before she fell on her stomach. Her hands searched for anything to stabilize her, and moments later caught the edge of a cold metal bar. She gripped it tightly and regained her balance, and then looked up—she was staring at a door. 

Confused, she pushed the bar and continued forward, but was quickly stunned into silence; she was on the mezzanine. “Did I walk seventy floors?” she asked herself, looking over her shoulder. 

The dust and smoke clawing at her throat caused her to push the issue to the back of her mind—she had bigger things to worry about. She took a step forward to continue her journey but found herself paralyzed. The world in front of her was something out of a film—mangled bodies were strewn about the ground, covered in dust, debris, and chunks of concrete knocked loose from the deteriorating building. Every few seconds, another body would fly from the sky and crash into the pavement and concrete. She covered her mouth and choked back tears. A quiet voice filled her head—she couldn’t tell if it was her own or something else. A thousand may fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand; but it shall not come near you. Only with your eyes shall you look, and see the reward of the wicked.

***

Bernadette pushed her way out of the lobby and exited onto the street. The sky above her was black from smoke, and in the distance, she could see small shapes leaping from the tower still standing. “Move it!” Someone yelled, knocking her aside. Her feet rapidly started moving her body in the direction the crowd was moving—she had no choice but to join them, else she would be trampled. “Sophie!” She let out a feral scream in hopes her daughter would hear. 

It didn’t take long for her to lose her bearings. She continued to scream out her daughter’s name, but her voice was overshadowed by the sounds of chaos ruling around her. “Sophie!” she called out again; it was the only thing she could do. “Soph—”

“Bernadette!” the voice answered back. She turned toward the tight grip on her arm and saw Glenn standing in the crowd, dirty, dusty, and tired, but very much alive. She wrapped him in a tight embrace and refused to let him go. “Thank God you’re alright,” he breathed. 

***

“Sophie!” The voice rang out, like a beacon in the dark. Sophie stumbled forward, urged on by the ever-changing direction of the crowd she was stuck in. She stopped and turned, looking for the voice. “Sophie!” It called again, this time closer. 

“Mom?” Sophie called out and hurried in the direction of the voice. “Mom!” She called. She cut through a throng of bodies and came face to face with a woman—Francis!

“Thank God!” Francis breathed, taking Sophie in a tight hug. 

“Where’s Mom? Is she okay?” Sophie asked, pushing away from her mother’s coworker.

“She’s fine! She’s in Tower Five praying for you. She’s okay, Sophie, she’s okay.”

Sophie breathed out, regaining her composure. When she looked back at Francis, her face was hardened with determination. “Take me to her.”

Francis took Sophie’s hand tightly and began leading her through the panicked crowd.

***

Sue’s chest heaved as she pushed past the crowd fleeing from the smoking buildings. The sky above her was black, and dust and soot rained down on top of her. She wiped her face with her forearm and kept running. To avoid a large crowd of people, she shot into the street and jumped around a moving car, trying her best to reach the buildings before a tragic fate befell her family. 

It was when she hopped back on the sidewalk that her pace slowed to a crawl—a loud crack reverberated through the city, shaking every bone in her body. She watched in shock as Tower One rumbled and vanished in a cloud of its own debris as it imploded on itself. 

Her throat felt like it was being torn by a gut-wrenching scream, but no sound left her mouth. Sue sank to her knees in the middle of the sidewalk, becoming an obstacle for fleeing pedestrians to avoid. She ignored them all, with her eyes only trained on the space in the sky the Tower used to occupy. 

Her mind itched, like there was something she needed to acknowledge that she couldn’t quite remember. After a few moments it did it again, and then she realized—it was her cellphone. Her hand acted autonomously, reaching into her pocket and accepting the call that was vibrating her phone. She held it up to her ear and uttered a quiet, hollow, “hello?”

“Sue? Sue! Oh, thank God! Are you okay?” Bernadette’s hoarse voice yelled through the phone.

“Mom!” Sue cried. She started shaking, overwhelmed at hearing her mother’s voice. 

“Sue, I’m with your father and Sophie, we’re out of the Towers! Are you still at school?”

“I—I—No, I’m on my way to you,” she breathed. All of her muscles lost their tension, almost causing her to slump over in the street. “Oh, Mom,” she cried. 

“Go back to school, honey! We’re okay! We’re going to get away from the towers. Go back to school, you should be safe there!” Bernadette’s voice began breaking up. “Go b—to scho—”

“Mom?” Sue asked loudly into the phone. “L—ve you!” Her mother’s voice managed to say before the call dropped. Sue stared at her phone, then hugged it to her chest. 

Wiping the tears and dust from her face, Sue started walking back toward her school with a relieved smile. 

***

Bernadette, Glenn, and Sophie followed the crowd slowly, accommodating Sophie and her swollen feet. “Are you doing okay, honey?” Bernadette asked. She slowed her pace and felt Sophie's forehead, but Sophie swatted it away. “I’m fine Mom, really.”

The small family wound their way through barricades of police, firemen, and military. Sophie couldn’t help but look out for the firemen she had met, but she never saw any of them. 

“Ma’am, are you alright?” A woman in blue scrubs approached Sophie when the family reached the Brooklyn Bridge. A young man holding a bottle of water and a bag of chips followed closely behind and handed them both to Bernadette before shooting off to retrieve more. 

The nurse took Sophie’s hand and led her to a ragged chair set up next to a make-shift table and motioned for her to sit down. Glenn and Bernadette followed them, but their attention was held elsewhere. 

All around the bridge were people with injuries, ranging from small rivulets of blood trickling down someone’s forehead, to only a few minor bruises; nurses assisted them all. Glenn hugged his wife, before being approached by another nurse. “Are you two okay? Do you have any injuries?”

“We’re fine, thank you,” Glenn nodded. The nurse mirrored the gesture and looked around. She stepped away for a moment and quickly returned with a bottle of water and some gummy snacks. “Give those to her while she’s getting checked out,” the nurse said, motioning to Sophie. She handed the items to Glenn, then started toward an elderly, limping couple.

***

Bernadette, Glenn, and Sophie came to a stop as they reached the end of Brooklyn Bridge. They stood to the side, watching the mass exodus of people. They were exhausted but determined to get away from the city. “What about Sue, and Trish, and—”

Glenn’s ringing phone interrupted Sophie. He brought the small machine out of his pocket and looked at the number, then quickly answered it. “Hello? Hey! Are you—Yes, we’re fine, we made it out of Manhattan.” Bernadette and Sophie leaned in close, listening to the conversation. “She did?! When will you be here? ...Sounds good. I’ll see you then, bye.”

Glenn hung up the phone and looked over his family with relief brewing on his face. “That was my brother—Sue called him, and he’s on his way to get her and her sisters.”

Bernadette let out an exclamation of relief and hugged Sophie. “We’ve got to get home, then! We need to be there when they arrive!” Bernadette looked at her family with determination and started walking.

They hadn’t made it too far when an older SUV pulled to a stop beside them. “Do you need a ride?” the driver asked, rolling down the passenger side window. The family looked at each other. “We live in Long Island, friend. Do you want to go that far?” Glenn asked, stepping up to the window.

“The only way we’ll get through this is to help each other. I’ll drive you wherever you need to go.”

“Thank you, sir!” Sophie exclaimed as Glenn opened the back door for her. She and Bernadette slid onto the back seat, and Glenn sat next to the driver. When everyone was settled, the driver began the slow journey across the city to Long Island. 

***

Sophie sat on the couch with her hands tightly clasped as she watched the news. Where the towers had once stood were now piles of dust-covered, smoking debris, and the firehouse across the street was partly destroyed. Sophie watched in horror, unable to look away. “I knew them,” she said quietly. 

“Mom?” a familiar voice called. 

“Sue?!” Bernadette jumped to her feet and ran out of the room. Sophie stood and followed her mother, and shrieked in joy when she locked eyes with her sisters. The family hugged tightly, spinning and jumping in circles. Glenn stood at the door with his brother, watching his girls reunite.

“Thank you,” Glenn said, hugging his brother with strong arms. 

“It’s no problem; you would’ve done the same for my family.”

“Would you like to come in?” Glenn asked, releasing his brother and motioning toward his living room. 

“No, I need to get back to my family,” he waved Glenn’s offer away. “I just wanted to make sure you were all okay.”

Glenn nodded and shook his brother’s hand tightly. “Call me later, alright? I want to know your family is okay too.” His brother nodded his head, then stepped across the yard toward his vehicle, waving in parting. 

***

The evening sun had already sunk below the horizon when Sophie was joined by her sisters on the sofa. They sat close together with hands clasped watching the carnage flicker by on the news. The images gradually changed from showing the ruined buildings and mangled bodies, to the lost families wandering the streets looking for the missing loved ones. “It’s so horrible,” Sue shook her head and wiped away a tear.

“Imagine being in there,” Sophie shook her head. “I was there—in the middle of it all. I—I couldn’t bear it if I lost any of you in that.”

Sue looked at Sophie for a moment, then extricated her fingers from her sister’s grasp. “Are you up for something, sis?” 

“What is it?”

“Change the news to a local station.”

Sophie snatched up the remote and found a broadcast from a news station in the City. Her sisters watched Sue cross the room and pick up the telephone, then quickly dial a number. The phone rang for a few seconds, but then a man’s voice answered, small and garbled. Sophie couldn’t hear most of the conversation, but she knew what her sister was planning. 

“My sister Sophie was in the South Tower when it was hit, and she made it out alive. She’s willing to answer any questions your callers may have,” Sue said into the phone, all the while looking at Sophie. 

A voice on the television caught the sisters’ attention. “We have someone on the line that was in the Towers when they were hit. She will answer any questions our viewers may have if they would like to call in,” the news anchor said, deviating from her script. 

Sue motioned for Sophie to join her at the corded house phone, and within seconds the news anchor spoke again. “We have a caller—Hello, what is your question?”

***

Sophie lowered the phone from her ear, letting it cool down. She didn’t know how long she had been answering questions, but she felt like their house phone had never gotten so much use. Sue waved her hands, motioning for Sophie to get ready to answer another question. She did as her sister said, and promptly felt her eyes go wide. “Hello,” the caller started apprehensively—it was a child. 

“Hi there, what’s your question, sweetie?” Sophie asked. 

The boy on the other end of the line was silent for a moment, then “Our grandma didn’t come home. She works in the South Tower, but she didn’t come home.”

Sophie covered her mouth so her erratic breathing wouldn’t be picked up on the call. She swallowed hard, trying to rid her voice of its wavering. “Your grandma is a wonderful person,” she rested her head against the wall and closed her eyes. “You were the light of her life, and she loved you very much.”

Sophie felt Sue’s hand on her back and couldn’t continue any longer. She wrenched the phone away from her face and handed it to her sister, making sure she got enough distance between herself and the speaker before she started crying. Her other sisters received her on the couch with loving embraces while Sue took over the call. “I’m sorry about that, but my sister is done for the night—it’s just too painful for her to continue. I hope you understand,” Sue explained. The news anchor relayed the information, but her message was cut off. Sophie looked up and saw her mother holding the remote, changing the channel to something else. 

The channel Bernadette landed on showed footage of first responders milling around the piles of rubble, doing what they could to contain the situation. From the ashes appeared a group of firemen carrying a body on their shoulders—it was Father Michaels. The sisters covered their mouths and sat together in shock.

Sophie laid her head in her mother’s lap, cradling her head and holding back tears. All of her emotions were hitting at once—finally, she was safe enough to let it all out. 

The family surrounded her, and all bowed their heads in prayer. 

***

Glenn huffed as he gently dropped a chair and placed it against the wall, adding it to the rows of chairs facing the left-most wall of the coffee shop. Bernadette stood behind the counter with a rag, quietly whistling a tune while she cleaned off the bar and coffee machines. 

“I’m proud of our family, of what we’ve accomplished,” Glenn said, straightening the chair. 

“It’s not us you should be proud of—it’s God,” Bernadette smiled. “He’s blessed us every step of our journey, from Trinidad, to New York, to here.”

“Grandpa!” An enthusiastic voice called. Bernadette and Glenn looked toward the front door. For a moment there was quiet confusion—the open sign was turned off—but then they smiled. A young boy no older than seven raced through the door and jumped into his grandfather’s arms. A little girl trailed far behind him, walking with her mother slowly. “Sophie!” Bernadette grinned. She hugged her daughter tightly. “It’s been so long! How are you?”

“I’m good, Mom. So are Michael and Isabella.” Sophie looked down at her daughter and smiled lovingly, then pointed to Michael. Isabella nodded shyly and ran over to him, leaving Sophie and Bernadette to talk. “You got the place looking good, Mom,” Sophie walked past her mother and looked around the coffee shop. 

“Cafe Mila—It’s named after my grandchildren; there was no way it could be bad with a name like that!” Bernadette joined Sophie behind a chair and watched the two children interact with Glenn. He led them over to a microphone and let them play with it—Sophie and Bernadette winced as the children yelled into it. 

“How’s work?” Bernadette asked. 

“It’s going really great, actually,” Sophie smiled. She walked around the chair and sat down, and shortly after, Bernadette joined her.  “I’m really happy now. I get to help people process traumatic experiences, help them recover. God led me here—I know it was the right choice.”

Bernadette rested her head against her chair and gazed at Sophie lovingly—until the front door opened in a flourish. “Surprise!” Sue called. 

Sophie hopped up and ran to her sister, wrapping her in a tight hug. Bernadette rose and greeted her other three daughters as they entered the cafe, and then, as a family, they set about preparing the Cafe for the evening church service.