11/27/2025
I had my twin boys when I was seventeen. While other girls my age were planning for prom and the SATs, I was more concerned with diapers and hiding my morning sickness from teachers.
Their father, Evan — my high-school boyfriend and the basketball star — told me he loved me.
After I found out I was pregnant, I was scared, but I told him. Immediately, he said, "We’ll figure it out, babe. I love you. We're a family. I'll be there. Always."
Then, the very next morning, he was gone. No messages, no calls, no explanation.
I raised Noah and Liam by myself. It was difficult. For years, I balanced motherhood with school, then working, and then whatever jobs I needed to make enough for rent, bills, and their formula.
Still, we made it through.
When both boys got accepted into a dual-enrollment college prep program at sixteen, I felt like all those hard years finally meant something.
Then Tuesday arrived.
When I got home from work, both boys were on the couch, tense and pale.
"What's wrong?"
Liam spoke coldly.
"Mom… we CAN'T see you anymore."
I felt a wave of dread.
"What are you talking about?"
Noah turned away.
"WE MET OUR DAD TODAY. He found us. He told us THE TRUTH."
All I could feel was fear.
"What truth? He abandoned—"
"He said YOU kept us from him," Liam said sharply. "That YOU pushed him out."
I was frozen.
Noah said softly, "He's the Director of our program. He figured out who we were."
Everything seemed to shift around me.
Liam went on, "He said that unless you go to his office and AGREE TO HIS TERMS, he'll have us expelled. He’s able to make sure we never get into ANY college."
It was hard to breathe.
"What… what terms?"
Noah’s voice shook with revulsion. ⬇️ See less