The hallway covered with school photographs.
The couch where I had spent countless nights sitting upright while feverish little girls slept against me.
Lily offered a polite smile.
“Mom,” she said. “Come in.”
Amanda’s whole expression brightened.
Grace and Amelia exchanged a glance.
“We actually have something for you,” Lily added.
Amanda laughed.
“We always thought you might come back someday.”
Lily went upstairs.
Amanda looked pleased.
“Children always wonder about their mother.”
The word settled heavily in the room.
—
My thoughts drifted back fifteen years…
The girls were six months old.
Amanda stood on my porch with three infant carriers lined beside the taxi.
She looked exhausted.
For one hopeful second, I assumed she had come to ask for help.
Instead, she said, “Take them.”
I caught Lily’s carrier before I fully understood what was happening.
Amanda placed Grace beside me.
Then Amelia.
“I can’t do this anymore, Bellina,” she muttered.
