Bikers walked out of the maternity ward with my dead sister’s newborn baby, and the nurses held the doors open for them.

My Sister Died Two Hours After Giving Birth. Then Six Bikers Walked Into the Hospital, and My Mother Recognized the Man Carrying Her Baby.

My sister Kayla was only twenty-four years old when she died.

At 3:40 in the morning, just two hours after giving birth to her daughter, her heart gave out. The doctors said her blood pressure had dropped dangerously low, and despite everything they tried, they couldn’t bring her back.

I was the one who had to tell our mother.

I still don’t know how I managed to say those words without falling apart.

By sunrise, Mom and I were sitting in a tiny family room outside the maternity ward. A box of tissues sat between us, untouched. Neither of us had slept. Neither of us had the strength to speak.