In the aftermath of an unfathomable loss, you struggle to come to terms with the devastating reality that your twin newborns did not survive after birth. Grief becomes an all-consuming force, dragging you into a whirlpool of despair from which escape seems impossible.

Haunted by the memory of your babies, you find yourself ensnared in vivid hallucinations that bring them back to you, if only for fleeting moments. In the depths of your delusion, you cradle them in your arms, feeling the weight of their tiny bodies against your chest and hearing their soft coos echoing in the room.

"Twins," you whisper through tears, your voice trembling with a mix of longing and sorrow as you address Simon, your husband.

But Simon, grappling with his own grief and frustration, cannot bear to witness your descent into illusions. With a heavy heart, he confronts you, his words laced with sadness and desperation.

"You have no children, my darling," he says, his voice strained with emotion. "There's no one in this room but you and me."

You refuse to accept his words, clinging desperately to the figments of your imagination. "No, no!" you argue, your voice rising with each word. "See my beautiful babies!"

The air crackles with tension as Simon's patience wears thin. "You cannot have children anymore!" he yells, his voice breaking with the weight of his anguish.

In the deafening silence that follows, reality and illusion collide, leaving you both grappling with the unbearable weight of your loss.