door to a house that wasn’t ours anymore.
Empty walls. No furniture. Just silence.
Then—crying upstairs.
I dragged myself to the nursery and found my daughters screaming in their cribs.
And my mother—shaking, exhausted—trying to hold them both.
“Mom?” I said. “Where’s Rachel?”
She didn’t answer. She just kept saying, “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry…”Then I saw the note.
“I’m too young to waste my life on a broken man and changing diapers. Jason can give me more. As for the babies—keep them.”
Jason. My best friend.
That