Page 46 of A Lie so Dangerous and Fragile

Twins? As in two humans? Like two of them? Two? One, two?

“Congratulations.” The doctor smiled at me.

She said something in Spanish to Mrs. Rodriguez, who was smiling so big that it stretched her face, forming smile lines around her eyes.

“It’s a boy and a girl,” Mrs. Rodriguez translated.

She hadn’t even asked me if I was interested in knowing the sex of the babies. I would have been better off not knowing anything, except the state of their health.

I was panicking silently as I stared at the two tiny images captured. I had only expected one, not two. I swallowed the dryness in my throat and looked away. I wasn’t prepared for two.

“You don’t look happy,” Mrs. Rodriguez pointed out as we walked out of the clinic.

“I’m just surprised—that’s all,” I mumbled.

“You will be a great mother; don’t worry about it.” She put an arm around me.

Honestly, I was happy to have someone by my side. I would have passed out if I had come here alone.

“Thank you for coming with me.”

“I wouldn’t miss such a moment. We should celebrate,” she said, happier about the result than I was.

What was I thinking, trying to keep the baby or babies? I felt like I’d just dug my own grave.

I returned to the house late at night with Yoselin and Mrs. Rodriguez. We had gone to a local restaurant that served mouthwatering food to celebrate me having twins. I faked smiles the whole night. The only time I’d felt a tiny bit happy was when Yoselin pulled me to dance to a local band performing. I had laughed and smiled for real, but now that I was back in my room and staring at the picture of the twins from the ultrasound, I felt a pang of guilt and helplessness.

What if I brought them into this world and didn’t provide all their needs? I felt the tears burning my eyes. I threw the picture away and broke down.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed.

I cried deeply, to the point that I started gasping for air. Different thoughts ran through my head. I’d thought I could do it. I had been ready and accepted my fate, but now, I was terrified, angry, and overwhelmed with all the emotions soaring through my veins like acid.

I grabbed the scissors on the dresser and walked to the mirror in front of me. I hated my reflection. I hated the person staring at me. I hated that she was weak and useless. I reached for a handful of my hair and cut it out as the tears flowed down my cheeks to my chin till they dropped to the floor. I cut some more, not caring how it looked.

“You’re pathetic. You’re not going to be a good mother. They will hate you,” I kept mumbling to myself as I cut any piece of hair my hand came across.

Someone called my name from behind me, and soon, the scissors were snatched away from me.

“Give it back!” I screamed at Mrs. Rodriguez, who looked terrified of me as she took a step back.

“I hate my hair. I don’t want it anymore. I hate everything,” I cried, my body shaking. I slid to the ground and wept.

She came closer and pulled me into her arms, holding me to her as I cried my soul out.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, cradling me in her warm arms.

It took almost an hour for the tears to stop and for me to calm down. Yoselin was already in the room with a glass of water. She looked like she was about to cry from the way her eyes were glossed with silent tears. I finished the glass of water and wiped my tears away. I could feel how swollen my eyes were, and my head was pounding, like someone was drumming on it nonstop with a hammer.

I opened up to Mrs. Rodriguez as she cut my hair, trying to perfect the damage I had done. I left some details out. I only told them how my family had deserted me when I needed them the most, the lies, and about the Sanchesters. I couldn’t talk about all my moments with Tristan without tearing up and looking for something to break from the rage and pain of every memory of us.

“You’re in safe hands now. Consider us your family,” Mrs. Rodriguez whispered, stroking my now-short hair.

It barely stopped at my shoulder. I looked like a fourteen-year-old boy. I didn’t mind a buzz cut right now.

“I’m sorry you went through all that. God will decide their fate.” Yoselin’s soft voice drew my eyes to the doorway, where she stayed.

“I’m not ready to have twins,” I confessed. “I thought I could do it. I was excited about being a mom, but now, I’m not so sure.”

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