**40 MISSED CALLS ON OUR SON’S BIRTHDAY NIGHT
AND THE WIFE’S FINAL MESSAGE:
“HONEY… PLEASE SAVE OUR CHILD…”**
1. A BIRTHDAY NIGHT WITHOUT DAD
Little Lucas Miller stood on tiptoe on a small wooden chair by the front door, both hands gripping the doorknob, his eyes shining with expectation.
“Mom… is Dad coming home?”
That was the tenth time Lucas had asked within half an hour.
Emily Miller turned her face away slightly, hiding a sigh behind a strained smile. She bent down and gently adjusted the slightly crooked paper birthday hat on her son’s head.
“Dad has something urgent at work tonight, sweetheart. But he said he’d try to finish early and come home to blow out the candles with you.”
Lucas tilted his head, frowning as he thought, then asked again:
“So… will Dad be home before the cake melts?”
Emily felt her throat tighten.
The chocolate cake in the middle of the living room had been lit for over fifteen minutes. The frosting was starting to soften, thin lines of chocolate slowly dripping down the plate. Balloons floated quietly along the ceiling, their cheerfulness now painfully ironic.
The small suburban house, usually warm and lively, felt strangely cold.
Emily glanced at the clock.
7:48 p.m.
David’s text from 3 p.m. still glowed on her phone screen:
“I have an urgent meeting with a client. I’ll try my best to finish early and come home to you and Lucas. Love you.”
She had believed him.
Just as she had believed him for six years of marriage.
“Mom…” Lucas tugged at her sleeve. “I’ve waited for Dad for so long.”
Emily swallowed her tears.
“How about… we blow out the candles first, okay?”
Lucas hesitated, then nodded.
He stood straight, clasped his hands, closed his eyes tightly.
“I wish…”
Emily wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
“…I wish Dad would come home.”
The candles went out.
At that moment, Emily felt something inside her go out with them.
She didn’t know that, at the same time—just over ten miles away—
2. WHERE THE HUSBAND SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN
Room 508 of the Sunrise Motel was bathed in dim yellow light.
David Miller leaned against the headboard, one hand holding a glass of whiskey, the other resting casually on the waist of Ashley—the young woman he had always introduced to his wife as “a new colleague from marketing.”
Ashley giggled softly, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“I thought you said your wife was easygoing.”
David shrugged.
“She’s used to it. Besides, it’s our kid’s birthday tonight—she’s busy taking care of him.”
The phone on the table vibrated.
David glanced at the screen.
Emily.
He frowned, then turned the phone face down.
“Who’s calling?” Ashley asked.
“No one important. Family stuff.”
The phone vibrated again.
And again.
David turned it off.
“I don’t want any interruptions tonight,” he said, pulling Ashley closer.
Outside, the rain began to fall.
3. THE FEVER IN THE NIGHT
Around 11 p.m., while Emily was cleaning up the living room, Lucas suddenly whimpered.
“Mom… I feel really hot…”
Emily froze.
She placed her hand on his forehead.
Burning hot.
The thermometer read 38.3°C (101°F).
“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re probably just tired.”
She gave him fever medicine and wiped his body with a damp towel.
But an hour later—
39.1°C (102.4°F).
Lucas started breathing rapidly, his body trembling.
Panic set in.
Emily called David.
No signal.
She called again.
And again.
“The number you have dialed is currently unavailable…”
She texted him:
“Honey, Lucas has a very high fever. Can you come home now?”
No reply.
The rain outside grew heavier.
By 12:15 a.m.—
40°C (104°F).
Lucas began convulsing.
“My baby… my baby…” Emily clutched him tightly, her hands shaking uncontrollably. “Please don’t scare Mom…”
She called David nonstop.
10 calls.
20 calls.
30 calls.
Her final message, fingers trembling so badly she could barely type:
“Honey… please save our child… please…”
Emily grabbed Lucas and ran into the rain-soaked street.
4. THE HOSPITAL AND THE MOMENTS THAT DECIDED EVERYTHING
“Driver! St. Mary’s Hospital! Please hurry!”
Lucas lay limp in her arms, his lips pale.
Emily cried and kept calling his name as the taxi sped through the night.
At the hospital, doctors rushed Lucas into the emergency room.
“Emergency! High fever with seizures!”
The doors slammed shut.
Emily collapsed onto a chair, drenched and shaking.
Her phone remained dark.
Not a single missed call from her husband.
Not a single message.
5. THE PAINFUL MORNING
6:32 a.m.
David Miller woke up in the cold motel room.
Ashley was already gone.
He turned his phone back on.
40 missed calls.
All from Emily.
One final message.
He opened it.
“Honey… please save our child…”
His heart dropped into his chest.
He rushed out of the motel, drove like a madman to the hospital.
But it was too late.
Emily stood outside the ICU, her eyes empty.
“Emily… I—”
She turned to look at him.
That look froze David in place.
“Do you know,” she said hoarsely, “Lucas kept asking if you were coming home. He wished you would.”
David collapsed to his knees.
“I’m sorry…”
Emily shook her head.
“He doesn’t need your apology. He needed his father.”
A doctor stepped out.
“We’re very sorry…”
David’s sobs echoed through the hospital corridor.
And Emily—
She stood still.
As if her heart had died that rainy night.
