My son got into a fight at school because another boy wouldn’t stop calling him his “brother.”
I marched into that office ready to apologize for my kid’s temper. Then I saw the other boy’s face, and every bit of blood in my body went cold.
Eight years ago, I was pregnant with twin boys. Labor came far too early, everything went wrong fast, and when I finally woke up two days later, only one bassinet sat beside my hospital bed.
One baby. “Where’s the other one?” I whispered to my husband, Foster. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“He didn’t make it.” I never saw a bo:dy. There was no fune:ral I ever went to.
He told me I’d been too weak to handle any of it, so he’d taken care of everything alone while I recovered.
