The courtroom blurred. My lawyer objected, but the judge allowed it.
“Yes,” I admitted quietly. The tumor was inoperable. I was fighting to shrink it, to hold on for my boys.
The judge’s voice was heavy with sympathy. “Dr. Spellman, if you love these children, you must understand what’s best for them. Given your condition, custody will be awarded to their biological father. You have two weeks.”
The words shattered me.
At home, as I packed their small clothes and toys, my heart felt hollow. “Uncle Thomas, we want to live with you!” they cried, clinging to me.
I swallowed my tears. “Boys, if you love me, trust me. I’d never choose wrong for you. Joe will take care of you. And I’ll see you every weekend.”
