They stopped crying instantly, and the cabin went quiet.
“Is there a mother on this plane?” I called out, my voice shaking. “Please, if these are your children, come forward.”
Silence. Not a single person moved or spoke up.
I stood up before I could talk
myself
out of it.
The woman next to me smiled sadly.
“You just saved them,” she said gently. “You should keep them.”
I sat back down, cradling both babies, and started talking to her because I needed to talk to someone, or I’d fall apart. I told her my daughter and grandson had died while I was out of town with friends, that I was flying back for their funeral, and how empty my house would feel when I got home.
She asked where I lived, and I said anyone in town could point her to the bright yellow house with the oak tree on the porch.
