‘Sorry Mom, I Couldn’t Leave Them,’ My 16-Year-Old Son Said When He Brought Newborn Twins Home

Josh spoke up before I could. “We’ll take care of them.”

“Josh…” I started.

“Mom, look at her. Look at these babies.

They need us.”

“Why?” I demanded. “Why is this our problem?”

“Because nobody else is!” he shouted back, and then lowered his voice. “Because if we don’t step up, they’re going into the system.

Foster care. Separated, maybe. Is that what you want?”

I didn’t have an answer.

Sylvia reached out a trembling hand toward me.

“Please. I know I have no right to ask. But they’re Josh’s brother and sister.

They’re family.”

I looked at those tiny babies, at my son, who was barely more than a child himself, and at this dying woman.

“I need to make a call,” I said finally.

I called Derek from the hospital parking lot. He answered on the fourth ring, sounding annoyed.

“What?”

“It’s Jennifer. We need to talk about Sylvia and the twins.”

There was a long pause.

“How do you know about that?”

“Josh was at the hospital. He saw you leave. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Don’t start.

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