But I could not forgive my parents for what they had done.

“I hated you for two whole minutes,” I whispered.

Suddenly, fast footsteps echoed toward us.

I turned and saw the doctor approaching.

Something in his eyes warned me he carried news I was not prepared to hear.

I stood and braced myself against the wall.

The doctor stopped in front of us.

His gaze moved between Ben and me.

Before he could speak, the elevator chimed.

My parents stepped out with their coats folded neatly over their arms.

They spotted us and walked over.

“How is she?” My mother asked.

“Rosie is stable,” the doctor said. “Both  babies are breathing on their own.”

A sob escaped me as I grabbed Ben’s sleeve.

He was already crying, silent tears running down his face.

“She made it,” I whispered. “She made it, Ben.”

My mother approached with her arms open for an embrace.

All my anger surged to the surface.

I stepped away.

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