When I opened the door, my two-year-old twin grandsons stood there in their pajamas.
Jeffrey clutched a stuffed dinosaur, and George stood beside him with his thumb in his mouth.
Behind them sat a black trash bag stuffed with clothes.
Vanessa shoved the bag toward me.
« I’m not cut out for this poverty stuff, » she said. « I want to live my life. »
Vanessa shoved the bag toward me.
I stared at her. « Vanessa… these are your children. »
« They’re better off with you, » she said flatly. « You don’t have much else to do, anyway. »
Then she turned around, climbed into her car, and drove away.
Just like that.
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