“You’re single, Vanessa. You live in a one-bedroom apartment. You work nights. Four babies need round-the-clock care. You can’t possibly—”
“Then give me six months,” Vanessa interrupted. “Let me prove I can.”
It was a battle of logic versus love — and for once, love refused to back down.By the time Vanessa clocked out that morning, she’d signed a temporary foster agreement. She drove home in her old Toyota, tears blurring her vision, her back seat filled with hospital blankets and formula.
Inside her tiny apartment, she lined up four bassinets side by side and whispered their new names aloud for the first time: Martin, Jeff, Dennis, and Samuel.
Exhausted, terrified, but resolute, she stood in the doorway watching them sleep. Then, just as she turned to rest, one of the babies began to cough — gasping, his face turning pale.
Vanessa froze.She rushed to the crib, lifted him into her arms, and realized his chest wasn’t moving.
“Oh God… Dennis, breathe. Please—breathe!”
And that was when everything began to change.
