I BECAME A FATHER AT 18 AFTER MY MOTHER ABANDONED

My mother—a woman who hadn’t sent a single dollar, diaper, or birthday card in seven long years—strode into my living room as if she owned the place. The twins, Lily and Maya, clung to my legs, their wide eyes shifting between the towering piles of brightly wrapped designer toys and the flashy stranger claiming to be their mom.

“Look at you two!” she squealed, her manicured hands fluttering in the air. “You’re absolutely gorgeous. You get that from my side, obviously.”

“Get out, Eleanor,” I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. I hadn’t called her ‘Mom’ since the day she walked out.

Eleanor finally looked at me, her smile instantly souring into a look of supreme annoyance. “Oh, don’t be dramatic, Leo. I know you’re probably bitter about the past, but I’m here now. And frankly, looking around this cramped little place, it’s a miracle you’ve kept them alive. You should be thanking me for stepping in.”

“Stepping in?” I let out a harsh, bitter laugh, squeezing my sisters’ shoulders to keep them close. “You abandoned two infants. I broke my back in warehouses and construction sites for seven years to give them a life while you were out living yours. You don’t get to just walk back in with a few expensive bags and play house.”

Eleanor sighed, crossing her arms and smoothing down her designer coat. She didn’t look guilty. She looked bored. “Look, Leo, let’s be practical. I married well. My husband is a very wealthy developer, but unfortunately, we can’t have children of our own. He’s reaching an age where he wants an heir—someone to carry on the family legacy and inherit the estate.”

A cold dread began to pool in the bottom of my stomach. “What are you talking about?”