When we arrived, Mrs. Chen was already waiting, her face tight with worry.
“Margaret, I’m so sorry. Josh just wanted to—”
“It’s okay. Where’s Sylvia?”
“Room 314… but you should know—she’s not doing well. The infection spread faster than expected.”
My stomach dropped. “How bad?”
Her silence answered everything.
We rode the elevator in silence. Josh carried both babies like he’d done it his whole life, whispering softly whenever they stirred.
Sylvia looked even worse than I imagined. Pale, gray, hooked to IVs. She couldn’t have been older than 25.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. “I didn’t know what else to do. I’m alone… and Derek…”
“I know,” I said softly.
“He left. When he found out it was twins—and about my complications—he said he couldn’t handle it.” She looked at the babies. “I don’t even know if I’ll survive. What will happen to them?”
“We’ll take care of them,” Josh said firmly.
“Josh—”
“Mom, look at her. They need us.”
“Why?” I demanded.
“Because no one else will,” he said quietly. “If we don’t help, they’ll go into foster care. Maybe get separated.”
I had no answer.
Sylvia reached for me weakly. “Please… they’re family.”
I stepped outside and called Derek.
“What?” he snapped.
“It’s Margaret. We need to talk about Sylvia and the twins.”
Silence.
“How do you know?”
“Josh saw you leave. What is wrong with you?”
“I didn’t ask for this. She said she was on birth control. This is a mess.”
“They’re your children!”
“They’re a mistake,” he said coldly. “I’ll sign whatever you want. Just don’t expect me to be involved.”
I hung up.
An hour later, he showed up with his lawyer, signed the guardianship papers without even looking at the babies, shrugged, and said:
“They’re not my burden anymore.”
Then he walked away.
“I’m never going to be like him,” Josh whispered.
