Taylor

The doorbell wakes me from my nap. Who could it be on a Wednesday? I slowly rise from the sofa and glance at the sleeping twins in their nearby bassinets on my way to the front door. Through the peephole, I spy Dr. Wilson.

Did I forget an appointment?

“Hello,” I greet.

“Taylor.” Dr. Wilson wraps me in a gentle hug. “I’m so sorry. I read about Kennedy’s passing in the paper. May I come in?”

I’m frozen in place. Seeing Dr. Wilson away ...