Email this sample to a friend

Throughout a sleepless night, Stephan had wrestled with the knowledge that finding parents who would take two newborns at once was difficult at any time. This time it had been impossible. Only weeks ago he'd located two couples, each of whom wanted a single child, and the paperwork and interviews had been completed in record time.

How do I choose? Stephan had agonized in the darkness of his living room, his hands clenched into tight fists. How do I decide which girl goes where? How can I make a decision like that when the worlds are so severely different? If both couples had been middle class...it would be easier. So much easier.

Stephan had finally taken a deep breath and told himself to be logical, the way his boss was. "Face facts instead of emotions," Mr. Corley was always saying. Never mind that the differences in the couples had been antipodal to the extreme.

The fact was, the DeMazzinos owned a chain of posh restaurants around the United States and were in the process of expanding overseas. They literally had servants on every doorstep. They were the type of ideal couple the Second Chance Adoption Agency loved to provide children for.

The fact was, one of the twins was weak and would need medical care for the first few weeks or months of her life to survive. Logic dictated that her parents would need money to afford the expenses. The DeMazzinos had the finances and the love to give this weaker twin everything she needed to thrive.

As soon as Stephan called them with the good news that morning, they rushed to the hospital to meet their new daughter. They insisted that money was no object. She would have the best doctors in the world to nurse her to complete health. While they hugged each other and smiled with tears in their eyes as they viewed their beautiful new child, Stephan reluctantly forced himself to depart.

The fact was, the strong twin would survive. She would have to spend her life fighting for everything she got, but she would survive better anywhere than with a mother who cared nothing for her.

Now, with the strong newborn behind him in the backseat of his car, Stephan drove through the precarious streets in one of the worst sections of the city. The Bronstons owned a run-down hotel in this area. Regardless, they'd passed the usual battery of tests required and had three foster children already--all girls under the age of ten.

Previous Page Next Page Page 3 of 292