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.”

it.

“And Ivy?” Grace asked.

I breathed through the pain.

“I never got to hold her,” I said. “But Ivy was stubborn. She kicked every time Sarah tried to sleep. And I swear she kicked harder whenever I burned dinner.”

Emily laughed through her tears.

“She sounds like us.”

I looked at the towels.

Then I looked at my daughters.

Then I looked at the ocean.