I adopted twin baby girls I discovered wrapped in towels inside a beach changing cubicle—then, on their 18th birthday, they placed those same towels back into my hands and whispered, “Dad… we owe you the truth.”
I knew those towels better than I knew my own scars. Eighteen years earlier, I had found my twin baby girls wrapped in those towels inside a beach changing cubicle.
Now, they looked like they had broken something they couldn’t fix.
“Dad,” Emily said, taking my hand.
“We owe you the truth,” Grace said, wiping her cheek.
