She dialed her mother’s cell phone with shaking hands.
“Mom, I think the babies are coming. Can you and Dad come drive me to the hospital?”
Eleanor hesitated over the line. “Are you sure you aren’t just overreacting, sweetie?”
Maya felt her chest tighten with fear. “Mom, it’s real.”
Then her father took the phone. “If it’s a real emergency, call an ambulance,” Richard said bluntly.
“Dad, I’m home alone!”
“Well, that’s what 911 is for.” And he hung up.
Maya ended up calling 911 herself. As the paramedics wheeled her out her front door, she kept looking down the quiet street, desperately hoping to see her parents’ sedan pull up.
It never appeared.
Hours later, her triplets were born prematurely, but stable. Maya wept with overwhelming relief when she heard their three tiny cries fill the delivery room.
David, frantically trying to catch the first available flight out of London, managed to rebook his travel and promised to be at her side as fast as humanly possible.
Feeling vulnerable and foolishly hoping the arrival of the newborns would soften her family’s hearts, Maya made the mistake of calling Eleanor to share the news.
This time, her family couldn’t wait to come over.
Eleanor, Richard, Daniel, and Jessica arrived at the maternity ward together.
After spending a few superficial minutes pretending to look at the infants, Richard pulled a chair up close to Maya’s bed.
“We need to talk about Daniel and Jessica,” Richard said, his tone heavy and deliberate.
Maya glanced at her brother, who was standing quietly near the door with his arms crossed. Neither he nor Jessica looked surprised.
That was when her father delivered the line: “You have three. They have none. You should let them raise one.”