Baby A made a soft sound.Review Articles Maternity
Baby B turned her head toward her.
That was it.
Just a tiny move.
But it destroyed me.
“I almost allowed someone to separate them,” I whispered.
Brian was standing at the door.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
I looked up sharply.
“Did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That someone wanted only one of them.”
His face paled.
“No.”
I believed him.
But she was still furious.
With him.
With me herself.
With everybody.
Especially with myself.
“I was afraid,” I whispered.
Brian came over.
“Me too.”
“I thought leaving meant admitting I couldn’t do this.”
He swallowed saliva.
“What do you think now?”
I looked at my daughters.
“I think I made a permanent decision while going through a temporary panic.”
Less than fifteen minutes later a social worker came in.
She introduced herself as Mrs. Cole.
His expression was calm, but serious.
