The One Sentence That Haunted Me Later
Six months later, she was dying.
She grabbed my wrist with surprising strength and said, “I need you to listen.”
I leaned in. “I’m here.”
“Promise me you’ll take my kids,” she whispered. “Please. There’s nobody else. Don’t let them be split up. They’ve already lost so much.”
My husband didn’t hesitate when I told him.
We talked that night like adults do when they’re terrified but trying to sound practical.
We said yes.
We made the promise.
Rachel squeezed my hand and said, “You’re the only one I trust.”
Then her eyes sharpened like she was forcing herself to get one more thing out.
