“I promise,” I said, not yet knowing what.
“Don’t let them take the kids away. Keep them together.”
Daniel stood on the other side of the bed.
“We will,” he said. “I swear.”
She smiled once—her last smile.
Days later, we stood in court. The judge looked exhausted. So did we.
“Do you understand the responsibility you’re taking on?” she asked.
Daniel nodded.
“Yes.”
“So do I,” I said.
The gavel fell. And just like that, at eighteen, we stopped being siblings who had lost a mother.
We became parents.
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