At the clinic gate, a 7-year-old collapsed, crying, “Mommy has been sleeping for three days, please save them.” The doctor rushed to help the newborn twins, but as he lifted them, his hands shook. Underneath the babies was a handwritten note from the mother that made the doctor freeze in terror…

the small, cracked table.

He picked up the thin notebook I had left behind.

He opened the pages. The handwriting was erratic, trailing off at the ends of words, but the ink was heavy with despair. It was a diary of a woman preparing to die. She had written apologies to a world that had ignored her. She had written how proud she was of me. And on the continue reading …