“You can’t do this. This isn’t your responsibility,” I whispered, tears burning my eyes.
“Then whose is it?” Josh shot back. “Dad’s? He already proved he doesn’t care. What if Sylvia doesn’t make it, Mom? What happens to these babies then?”
“We take them back to the hospital right now. This is too much.”
“Mom, please…”
“No.” My voice was firm. “Get your shoes on. We’re going back.”
The drive to Mercy General was suffocating. Josh sat in the back seat with the twins, one on each side in baskets we’d grabbed from the garage.
Mrs. Chen met us at the entrance, her face tight with concern. “Jennifer, I’m so sorry. Josh just wanted to…”
“It’s okay. Where’s Sylvia?”
“Room 314. But Jennifer, you should know… she’s not doing well. The infection spread faster than we anticipated.”
My stomach turned. “How bad?”
Her expression said everything.
We rode the elevator in silence. Josh carried the babies like he’d done it all his life, whispering softly when they fussed.
Sylvia looked worse than I imagined—pale, almost gray, hooked up to IVs. She couldn’t have been more than 25. Tears filled her eyes when she saw us.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. “I didn’t know what else to do. I’m all alone, and I’m so sick, and Derek…”
“I know,” I said quietly. “Josh told me.”
“He just left. When they told him it was twins, when they told him about my complications, he said he couldn’t handle it.” She looked at the babies. “I don’t even know if I’m going to make it. What happens to them if I don’t?”
Josh spoke 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, then lowered his voice. “Because if we don’t step up, they’ll go into the system. Foster care. Separated, maybe. Is that what you want?”
I had no answer.
Sylvia reached out a trembling hand. “Please. I know I have no right to ask. But they’re Josh’s brother and sister. They’re family.”
I looked at the babies, at my son who was barely more than a child, and at this dying woman.
“I need to make a call,” I said finally.
I called Derek. He answered on the fourth ring, annoyed. “What?”
“It’s Jennifer. We need to talk about Sylvia and the twins.”
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. I didn’t ask for this. She told me she was on birth control. This whole thing is a disaster.”
“They’re your children!”
“They’re a mistake,” he said coldly. “Look, I’ll sign whatever papers you need. If you want to take them, fine. But don’t expect me to be involved.”
I hung up before I said something I’d regret.
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