Six months ago, my biggest worries were deadlines and wedding playlists. I was 25, engaged, and living a predictable life. Then my mom died in a car accident while buying birthday candles for my twin sisters, Lily and Maya. Overnight, I went from son and fiancé to their only guardian. My fiancée, Jenna, stepped in, moving in two weeks after the funeral, braiding hair, packing lunches, and making the girls feel safe. I thought she’d be their ally.
One day, I overheard her saying the twins were obstacles, that a foster family would be better, that she deserved my mom’s house and the insurance money. Shocked, I realized her care had been a façade. I took action: hired security, filed a restraining order, and completed the adoption.
Now, Lily and Maya are finally safe. We cook, laugh, and cry together. Our family isn’t perfect, but it’s real—and we’re home.
