The moment I saw it, fear went through me.
“Spina bifida,” I whispered.
Melissa’s reaction broke my heart.
“No.”
Then again, louder.
“No. They told us everything was fine.”
Her voice rose until it became a cry.
“They said she was fine!”
Nurses rushed back into the room.
Ryan stood there for another moment, frozen.
Then he turned around.
And walked away.
He simply walked out.
I watched my twin brother disappear through the hospital doorway while Melissa collapsed into a chair.
I was exhausted, shaking, still attached to monitors, holding a newborn whose parents had spent years begging for the chance to love her.
I looked down at her tiny face.
Her eyes were closed.
Her little mouth opened and closed as she settled against me.
Something fierce rose inside my chest.
I bent my head toward her.
“You aren’t being abandoned,” I whispered. “Not while I’m here.”
