Her fingers found her sister’s hand.
And closed around it.
I covered my mouth.
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The nurse beside me whispered, “They’ve been doing that since they were brought in here.”
Something inside me collapsed.
All the fear, shame, anger, and confusion poured out at once.
“I left them.”
The nurse didn’t answer.
“I heard them crying, and I still left.”
I reached through the opening in the crib.
One of my daughters wrapped her fingers around mine.
Her entire hand barely covered the tip of my finger.
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But she held on.
I started sobbing.
“I’m sorry.”
