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

“It’s okay. Where’s Sylvia?”

“Room 314. But, Margaret, you should know… she’s not doing well. The infection spread faster than we anticipated.”

My stomach turned. “How bad?”

Mrs. Chen’s expression said everything.

We took the elevator up in silence. Josh carried both babies like he’d been doing it his entire life, whispering softly to them when they fussed.

When we reached room 314, I knocked gently before pushing the door open.

Sylvia looked worse than I’d imagined. She was pale, almost gray, hooked up to multiple IVs. She couldn’t have been more than 25. When she saw us, tears immediately filled her eyes.

“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 in Josh’s arms. “I don’t even know if I’m going to make it. What happens to them if I don’t?”

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 Margaret. 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. 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.

An hour later, Derek showed up at the hospital with his lawyer. He signed temporary guardianship papers without even asking to see the babies. He looked at me once, shrugged, and said, “They’re not my burden anymore.”

Then he walked away.