I stared down at Sophie.
“You don’t even know me.”
Mrs. Coleman was quiet.
Sophie opened her eyes.
Melissa’s eyes.
That nearly broke me.
I thought about my brother.
About those three girls waking up tomorrow in a strange foster home.
Maybe together.
Maybe not.
I had no idea.
And I suddenly realized I couldn’t do it.
I couldn’t put them in a car and watch someone drive them away.
“Mrs. Coleman?”
“Yes?”
“How do you make formula?”
She closed her eyes.
“Oh, Mason.”
“I’m serious.”
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
“Clearly.”
She studied me for several seconds.
Then she rolled up the sleeves of her robe.
“Go downstairs and get the clean towels from my dryer.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re about to discover what happens when three babies need changing at the exact same time.”
That was how it started.
Not with some heroic promise.
