My Twins Were Born the Day I Learned Who My True Mother Was

I’m sitting in a quiet hospital room, the lights dimmed low, my newborn twins sleeping in the bassinets beside my bed. Their tiny chests rise and fall in perfect rhythm, and everyone keeps telling me this should be the happiest moment of my life. I nod, I smile when the nurses come in, but inside, my chest feels tight. Heavy. Like there’s a stone resting where joy is supposed to be.

My stepmother, Eva, has been my real mom since I was six years old.