I h:id my career as a judge from my mother-in-law. After my C-section, she stormed in with adoption papers, demanding one twin for her infe:rtile daughter. I clutched my babies and pressed the panic button

Still, I forced one leg toward the edge of the bed.

The spinal medication had not fully worn off. My foot felt distant, like an object belonging to someone else.

Margaret watched me struggle.

Something almost satisfied passed through her eyes.

“You can’t even stand.”

“Give him to me.”

“You can’t protect one child, much less two.”

“Put him down.”

“Karen has waited twelve years.”

“That does not make my baby hers.”

“You selfish little—”

I reached for Noah.

Margaret slapped me.

The sound cracked through the room

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