The sky had turned gray and heavy, the kind of weather that always reminded me of hospital waiting rooms. When I pulled into the driveway, the house looked peaceful.
Maya’s bike lay on the lawn. Lily’s muddy gardening gloves rested neatly on the porch railing, just like always.
I unlocked the door quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone.
Inside, the air smelled like cinnamon buns and craft glue.
Then I heard Jenna’s voice.
It wasn’t warm. It wasn’t gentle.
It was cold—low and sharp, like a whisper wrapped in ice.
“Girls, you are not going to be staying here for long. So, don’t get too comfortable. James is doing what he can, but I mean…”
I froze.
“I’m not wasting the final years of my 20s raising someone else’s kids,” she continued. “A foster family would be much better for you anyway. At least they’ll know how to deal with your… sadness. Now, when the final adoption interview is scheduled, I want you both to say that you want to leave. Understand?”
Silence followed.
Then a soft, broken sound.
“Don’t cry, Maya,” Jenna snapped. “I’m warning you. If you cry again, I’ll take your notebooks and throw them away. You need to grow up before you keep writing your silly stories in them.”
“But we don’t want to leave,” Maya whispered. “We want to stay with James. He’s the best brother in the world.”
My stomach twisted painfully.
“You don’t get to want anything. Go do your homework, girls. Hopefully, you’ll be out of my hair in a few weeks, and I can go back to my wedding planning. Don’t worry, you’ll still be invited, of course. But don’t think that you’ll be… bridesmaids or anything.”
Footsteps rushed upstairs—bare, hurried, desperate.
A door slammed.
I stood there, unable to breathe, the weight of her words crushing me. I couldn’t move toward the kitchen. I didn’t want her to know I was there.
I needed to hear more.
I needed to be sure.
Then her tone shifted instantly—light, almost cheerful.
She was on the phone.
“They’re finally gone,” she said. “Karen, I swear I’m losing my mind. I have to play perfect mom all day. And it’s exhausting.”
She laughed softly.
“He’s still dragging his feet on the wedding,” she continued. “I know it’s because of the girls. But once he adopts them, they’re legally his problem, not mine. That’s why I need them gone. We have an interview coming up with the social worker soon.”
I pressed my hand against the wall to steady myself.
“The house? The insurance money? It should be for us! I just need James to wake up and smell the coffee… and put my name on the deed. And after that, I don’t really care what happens to those girls. I’ll make their lives miserable until he gives in. And then this naïve man will think it was his idea all along.”
My breath caught.
“I’m not raising someone else’s leftovers, Karen. I deserve so much more than this.”
I backed out quietly and closed the door behind me.
In the car, I sat frozen, staring at my reflection. Pale. Hollow. Furious.
It hit me all at once.
This wasn’t a moment of weakness.
It was a plan.
Every lunch she packed. Every braid she tied. Every kind word.
All of it was an act.
None of it was love.
I thought of Maya’s journals—carefully stacked, filled with stories she never showed anyone.
I pictured Lily’s dirt-covered hands, planting marigolds beside the fence, whispering to them like they were magic.
Their soft, synchronized “goodnights.”
Jenna had seen all of that—and only saw a burden.
I gripped the steering wheel, my jaw tight, my chest aching.
This wasn’t going to be a fight.
This was the end.
I drove around for a while, picked up pizza, and walked back into the house like nothing had happened.
“Hey, honey! I’m home.”
Jenna rushed over, smiling, kissing me like everything was normal. She smelled like coconut and lies.
That night, after the girls were asleep, I sighed.
“Jenna… maybe you were right, babe.”
“About what?”
“About the girls. Maybe… maybe I can’t do this. Maybe I should give them up. Maybe we should find a family who will take care of them. They need a mother… not us… we’re substitutes, nothing more.”
Her eyes lit up.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she said. “That’s the mature thing to do. It’s the right thing for all of us.”
“Yes, Jen. And maybe… we shouldn’t wait on our wedding. Losing my mom made me realize that we don’t have time to waste. So let’s just do it. Let’s get married!”
“Are you serious, James?”
“I am. I really am.”
“Oh my goodness! Yes, James! Let’s do it. This weekend — small, simple, whatever we want.”
I shook my head.
“No, let’s do it bigger. Let’s invite everyone! And make it a fresh start for us, honey. Your family, my mom’s friends, the neighbors, colleagues… everyone!”
Her smile widened beyond reason.
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