Trace and Chance
short fiction
Trace was older by two minutes. And she never let Chance forget it.
Not that anyone could forget those two minutes.
Their mother burst into joyful tears as Trace emerged, red-faced and wailing. Their father sat by his wife’s shoulder, running his gloved fingers over her cheeks.
They tried to take Trace away, but something held her back.
A nurse spotted the twins’ joined hands and gently but firmly pried them apart.
Trace let out an ear-splitting scream as everyone in the operating room cheered her release.
Inside Chance’s newly formed brain, something fragile broke.
His will to survive.
His heartbeat stuttered. Tried. And failed.
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