When James’s mother dies suddenly, he becomes the guardian of his ten-year-old twin sisters. His fiancée helps him out. But as he gets used to his loss and builds trust, he starts to discover a reality so brutal that it could ruin everything he’s worked so hard to keep together, unless he tells it first.
I was a 25-year-old structural engineer six months ago. I had to plan a wedding and pay for half of my honeymoon in Maui, and my fiancée had already picked out names for our future children.
I was stressed out, that’s for sure. I had debts to pay, deadlines to meet, a mother who texted me every hour with grocery list updates, and a bunch of supplements to try.
“James, you work too much,” she would say. “And I’m proud of you! But I’m also worried about your health. That’s why you should eat well and take supplements.”
So, yes, stress. But it was regular, easy to deal with, and easy to see coming.
Then my mom, Naomi, died in a vehicle accident on her way to get birthday candles for my twin sisters, Lily and Maya, who were turning 10. And just like that, the sudden responsibility of being a parent made all the details of my adult life evaporate.
The seating plan for the wedding? Not remembered.
The printing of the save-the-dates? Still waiting.
The espresso machine we signed up for? Canceled.
I went from being the oldest kid to being the only parent. I went from planning foundations to being one of two tiny girls who had nowhere else to go.
Bruce,
It was about staying alive. There were two timid, quiet girls holding on to their backpacks and muttering about whether I could sign permission slips now.
That same night, I moved back into Mom’s house. I left behind my apartment, my coffee grinder, and everything else I thought constituted me as a grownup.
I did my best. But what about Jenna? She made it look easy.
Two weeks after the death, Jenna moved in and said she wanted to help. She made lunches for the girls to take to school. She put their hair in braids. She hummed lullabies that she found on Pinterest.
Jenna wiped away a tear and said, “I finally have the little sisters I always wanted,” when Maya entered her name and phone as another emergency contact in her glittering notebook.
I was sure I was lucky. I felt my fiancée was an angel who was doing everything my mother would have wished for the twins.
But I was so wrong.
I got home early from a site visit last Tuesday. By the time I got into the driveway, the sky had become dark and cloudy. The weather always made me think of hospital waiting rooms.
The outside of the house seemed calm. Maya’s bike was still on the grass, and Lily’s muddy gardening gloves were carefully placed on the porch rail, as they always are. I quietly unlocked the door so I wouldn’t wake anyone up who was sleeping or working on homework.
The corridor smelled like cinnamon rolls and craft glue. I moved ahead and stopped when I heard Jenna’s voice coming from the kitchen.
It wasn’t warm or kind. It was low and sharp, like a whisper frozen in ice.
“Girls, you won’t be here for long, so don’t get too comfortable. James is doing what he can, but I mean…”
I stopped moving. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
Jenna went on, “I’m not going to waste the last few years of my 20s taking care of someone else’s kids.” “Anyway, a foster family would be better for you. At least they’ll know how to deal with your… sadness. Now, when the last adoption interview is set up, I want you both to say you want to leave. Do you understand?”
There was no sound. Then a quiet, strangled sound.
“Don’t cry, Maya,” Jenna said angrily. “Listen up. If you cry again, I’ll throw away your notebooks. You need to grow up before you keep writing your dumb stories in them.”
“But we don’t want to go,” Maya said softly. “We want to stay with James because he’s the best brother ever.”
I could feel my gut twist.
“You can’t want anything. Go do your homework, girls. I hope you’ll be out of my hair in a few weeks so I can get back to planning my wedding. Don’t worry, you’ll still be invited, but don’t think you’ll be bridesmaids or anything.”
I heard bare feet running quickly up the stairs. A few seconds later, the door to the girls’ room slammed shut.
I stood there, holding my breath, letting her words sink in. I couldn’t even get to the kitchen. I didn’t want her to see me. I just needed to hear more. I needed to learn more.
I had to be sure before I did anything.
Then I heard Jenna again. Her voice changed, like she had switched a switch. That’s how I knew she was on the phone with a friend.
“Finally, they’re gone,” Jenna murmured. Her voice was light suddenly, almost breathless, as if she’d taken off a mask. “Karen, I swear I’m going crazy. I have to be the perfect mom all day, and it’s so tiring.”
I hadn’t heard her laugh in weeks, but she did. I was curious about what Karen had said. There was a pause, and then her voice got sharper.
“He’s still dragging his feet on the wedding,” she said. “I know it’s because of the girls. But once he adopts them, they’re his problem, not mine. That’s why I need them gone. We have an interview with the social worker coming up soon.”
I put my hand on the wall to keep myself stable.
“That house? That money? It should be ours! All I need is for James to wake up and smell the coffee and put my name on the deed. After that, I don’t care what happens to those girls. I’ll make their lives miserable until he gives in. Then this stupid man will think it was his idea all along.”
I couldn’t breathe. How could I marry this awful woman?
“I’m not raising someone else’s leftovers, Karen,” she remarked. “I deserve so much more than this.”
I backed out the front door and carefully closed it behind me. My hands were shaking.
I sat perfectly still in the automobile. The person in the rearview mirror looked strange—pale, drawn, and angry.
It hit me all at once.
This wasn’t a mistake or a weak moment. Jenna had been thinking about this for a long time. Every time she made them lunch or braided their hair, every nice thing she said to them was part of a plan.
None of it came from love.
I imagined Maya’s diaries, which were stacked on her desk and had a label on each one for the season. They were full of stories that she never let anybody read. I thought of Lily’s dirty fingers as she gently pressed marigold seeds into the flower bed she had made next to the fence and whispered to them as if they were enchanted.
I remembered how they both murmured goodnight in a smooth, synchronized way that made it sound like they were casting a spell to keep each other safe while they slept.
Jenna had seen all of that and felt a weight.
I sat there, grasping the wheel, teeth clenched, and stomach wrenched. Not only was I angry, but my heart was racing because I knew how close I had come to trusting the wrong person with everything I had left.
This wasn’t going to be a battle; it was the end of Jenna’s part in our story.
I drove around the block for a while, then stopped to get the girls pizza for dinner. Then I strolled back in like nothing had happened.
“Hey, sweetie! I’m back.”
Jenna ran up to me with a smile and kissed me like nothing was wrong. She smelled like coconut and lies.
I ran my hand down my face and sighed that night after the girls went to bed.
“Jenna… you might have been right, babe.”
“About what?” she asked, turning her head.
“About the girls. Maybe I can’t do this. Maybe I should give them up. Maybe we should find a family who will take care of them. They need a mother, not us. We’re just substitutes.”
Jenna blinked gently, and her eyes lit up when she understood what I was saying.
“Oh, darling,” she said. “That’s the grown-up thing to do. It’s the right thing for everyone.”
“Yes, Jen. And maybe we shouldn’t wait for our wedding. Losing my mom made me realize that we don’t have time to waste. So let’s just do it. Let’s get married!”
“Are you serious, James?” she yelled.
“I am. I really am.”
“Oh my gosh! Yes, James! Let’s do it. This weekend, we’ll do something small and easy, or whatever we want.”
I shook my head.
“No, let’s make it bigger. Let’s invite everyone! Your family, my mom’s friends, the neighbors, coworkers…everyone!”
Her face may have broken if she smiled any broader.
Jenna was on the phone with florists before she even brushed her teeth the next morning. She chose a hotel in the city center, booked a ballroom, and shared a picture of her ring with the caption:
“Forever starts now for James and Jenna.”
In the meantime, I promised the girls that I would always be there for them. After that, I called people myself.
The hotel ballroom shone in an over-the-top way that Jenna loved. Every table had white linens on it, and glass basins with floating candles flickered.
Jenna’s cousin played a tune on the piano that she had practiced near the stage.
Jenna stood by the door, gleaming in a white lace dress. She had her hair pulled back and her makeup just right. She seemed like she already thought the night was hers.
She floated from one guest to the next, smiling, hugging, and kissing their cheeks. She stopped for a moment to straighten the bow on Lily’s frock, then turned to Maya and brushed a piece of hair behind her ear.
She said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, “You girls look perfect.”
Maya looked at me and then nodded.
My mom helped me pick out the navy suit I wore last fall. It still smelled a little like her perfume. Lily was on my right, holding a tiny bouquet of wildflowers she had chosen outside the motel.
Maya was on my left, gripping a pink glitter pen tightly.
Jenna smiled at the gathering, clinked her glass, and raised the mic.
“Thanks for coming! Tonight we’re going to celebrate love, family, and—”
I moved up and softly put my hand on her shoulder.
“Actually, babe, I’ll take it from here.”
My fiancée’s smile faded for a moment, but she gave me the mic without saying anything.
I took a small black remote out of my jacket pocket.
I turned to face everyone and said, “Everyone.” “We’re not just here to celebrate a wedding; we’re here to show you who we really are.”
The projector behind us came to life.
I clicked on the first file, and the screen behind us lit up.
The corner timestamp said, “Tuesday Afternoon—Kitchen Camera.” The video was black and white and blurry, but the sound was clear.
Jenna’s voice rang out in the hall, both nonchalant and harsh.
“The house? The money from the insurance? It should be ours! I just need James to wake up and smell the coffee and put my name on the deed. After that, I don’t care what happens to those girls. I’ll make their lives miserable until he gives in. Then this stupid man will think it was his idea all along.”
There was a gasp in the room. A glass broke somewhere.
I let it play for a few more seconds before stopping it. Even as my hands were getting tighter around the mike, my voice kept calm.
“My mom had nanny cams in the house. She put them in when she worked long hours and hired babysitters for Lily and Maya. I forgot they were even there until that day. This is not a setup. This is not a joke. This is Jenna, speaking freely.”
I clicked again. Another piece of footage played, this time with Jenna’s voice talking directly to the girls.
“Stop crying, Maya,” Jenna said sharply. “Listen up. If you cry again, I’ll throw away your notebooks. You need to grow up before you keep writing your dumb stories in them.”
“But we don’t want to go,” Maya said softly. “We want to stay with James because he’s the best brother ever.”
Lily’s hand crept into mine. Maya never took her eyes off of it.
“That’s not—James, that’s out of context! I was venting! You weren’t supposed to—”
“I heard everything,” I answered as I turned to face her. “You weren’t planning a future; you were planning a betrayal. You lied to me and used my sisters.”
“James, you can’t do this to me in front of everyone!”
“I just did,” I responded, pointing to the security. “And you did it to yourself.”
“James, you’re making my life miserable!” Jenna yelled.
“You were going to ruin theirs, Jenna. You deserve everything bad that happens to you.”
Jenna’s mom stayed on her seat, but her dad shook his head and left.
Word got around quickly.
The film made its way into every group Jenna and I had ever been a part of. Jenna sought to become better by saying that the clips were cut or put in the wrong context. She put up a long, sad video on Facebook about “being misunderstood” and “the pressure getting the best of her.”
Nobody believed her.
She came to the house three nights later. She was barefoot, with mascara running down her face, and screamed my name like it still meant something. I stood in the front hallway with my arms crossed and watched through the peephole until the police came.
The next day, I filed for the restraining order. I had to make sure my sisters were protected.
A week later, the girls were officially adopted.
Maya whimpered softly in the judge’s office. It wasn’t noisy or messy; she just cried softly when she wrote her name on the papers. Lily leaned over and gave her a tissue.
Lily said, “We won’t be apart now.”
My heart sank. I didn’t know what they were afraid of till then.
We had spaghetti for dinner that night. Lily mixed the sauce. Maya danced in the kitchen with the parmesan cheese like it was a microphone. I let them turn up the volume on their music.
Maya patted my wrist when we finally sat down.
“Can we light a candle for Mommy?” she asked.
“Of course.”
Lily ignited it herself and said something I couldn’t hear. She leaned on my arm after we ate.
“We knew you’d pick us,” she said.
I had to swallow hard.
When I tried to talk, nothing came out. So I didn’t act like I did. I just let the tears flow. I let them watch me cry.
They didn’t say anything. My young sisters just sat there, one on each side of me, with their hands lightly resting on my arms like anchors.
We were safe. We were real. And we were back home.
