I found twin babies wrapped in the coat my only son was wearing the day he disappeared 3 years ago — then I found a letter in the pocket and broke down crying when I read it.

“I know you said we’d talk about it.”

“We can. What do you need?”

“We don’t pay rent, but moving used up our savings. There are building fees, utilities, and hospital bills. We could use some help.”

“What kind of help?”

“Groceries, baby supplies. Maybe enough to get us through the next couple of months.”

“Have you worked out how much you’re short?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then that’s where you need to start.”

He frowned.

“Mom, I wouldn’t ask if things weren’t difficult.”

“I believe you. But I need you to understand where I stand.”

He waited.

“I’ll buy what Emma and Chloe need: diapers, formula, clothes, whatever helps keep them comfortable. But I won’t give you money without knowing where it’s going.”

“You think I’d waste it?”

“I’m not accusing you of anything, Julian. You’ve got two daughters now. You need a plan for supporting them.”

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