I was in the kitchen grading artwork when the front door slammed. Usually Savannah would call out, “Mom, I’m home!” and head straight for the fridge. This time, silence.
“Savannah?” I called. “Everything okay, honey?”
Her shaky voice answered, “Mom, you need to come outside. Right now. Please.”
My heart skipped. I rushed to the porch—and froze. Savannah stood pale as paper, clutching the handle of a worn stroller. Inside lay two tiny babies. One fussed softly, fists waving. The other slept beneath a faded yellow blanket.
“Sav,” I whispered, barely able to speak. “What is that?”
“Mom, please! I found it abandoned on the sidewalk,” she said. “There are babies inside. Twins. No one was there. I couldn’t just walk away.”
