Alone.
I don’t remember dressing. I remember running three red lights and thinking Vanessa must have collapsed somewhere.
At the maternity floor, a nurse led me into a private room.
Three bassinets stood beneath the window.
Beside them sat Vanessa’s purse, a folded note, and absolutely no sign of Vanessa herself.
The note was four lines.
“Three babies will ruin my life. Marcus and I are leaving. Do whatever you want.”
I read it twice, then a third time because my brain refused to understand.
My knees gave out.
I sat on the floor beside three daughters my sister had abandoned.
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