She was doing a great job as a mom to twins.
I pulled into the driveway. The porch light was still off.
When my mother opened the door, she looked surprised to see me.
“Zach?” she blinked. “What’s going on? Shouldn’t you be at home?”
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“What did you do?” I asked, holding up the note.
“Are the twins with you?” she asked, looking past me, toward the car.
She looked surprised to see me.
“What did you do, Mom?”
“Come in,” she said. “I’ll get the girls, and then we can talk.”
My aunt Diane was in the kitchen, wiping down the counter like she’d been there a while. She looked up, took in my face, and went still.
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Inside, the girls sat at the kitchen table with juice boxes. I followed my mother into the den and sat two cushions away, my heart pounding.
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