CHAPTER 1

 Manassas, Virginia
June 30, 1982

Ann Carrington never dreamed the recklessness of two seventeen-year-olds would be the answer to her prayers. At thirty-three years old, she had built a successful career in real estate, married a man who adored her, and lived an affluent lifestyle. But her failure to bear children overshadowed it all. After three miscarriages in as many years, the adoption of the teens’ identical twins would end the deep yearning for a child that had held her captive for as long as she could remember.

Ann stood in the doorway, breathing in the scent of lavender, while admiring the completed nursery. Everything was in order. The custom mahogany cribs adorned with white silk sheets were thoughtfully placed against a mural of blush pink roses. She hired and befriended Martha, the perfect nanny, and in two months, her daughters would fill the elaborate cribs.

She closed her eyes, and the smile fell from her lips, hearing Seth’s voice in her head. Ann, why must you fret over every detail? It’s much too soon to be worrying yourself with the nursery. She released a heavy sigh, then ran her fingers down the light switch, leaving only the dim glow of a nightlight in the nursery.

Ann walked down the hall to the main bedroom and settled under the plush duvet of their king-size four-poster bed and turned off the table lamp. When she closed her eyes, she imagined Seth cradling their daughters, completely captivated by them, bringing a smile back to her lips. No longer would she be plagued by loneliness when business deals pulled her husband away, as Martha and the twins would fill her days and nights with the companionship she craved. Her family at last would be complete.

She reached over and laid her hand on Seth’s pillow. “You won’t be able to leave them as easily as you do me,” she whispered to the empty bed beside her.

Ann moved restlessly in her sleep, her eyes darting side to side behind closed lids as if she were following the intense rally of a tennis match.

She opened the nursery door to find a young woman sitting in the rocking chair, cradling two infants and talking softly to them. “Mommy and Daddy love you. No one will ever take our baby girls from us.”

A young man appeared before her, trying to push her out of the nursery, and shouted, “You can’t have them!”

She heard the telephone ring, ran to her bedroom, picked up the receiver, and cried, “Seth, they took our girls, Seth?”

“Mrs. Carrington, this is Ms. Phillips of Loving Hearts. I’m sorry to inform you that the biological parents have changed their minds.”

NO! PLEASE! NO! she screamed as tears spilled down her cheeks.

She turned around and was standing in an empty nursery, the mural of roses now a dull gray wall. The cribs, changing table, rocking chair, even the floor-to-ceiling drapes—gone. Everything was gone.

The telephone rang for the third time, causing Ann’s heart to race as her hand searched the bedside table in the dark. Her fingers traced the handset, lifting it from the base, finally ending the incessant ring. Half asleep and startled, she raised her head from the pillow and answered timidly. “Hello?”

“Mrs. Carrington, this is Ms. Phillips…”

Ann sat on the side of her bed, wide awake, holding the receiver to her ear, the nightmare still fresh in her mind. She trembled, waiting ring after tortuous ring for her call to be answered as the clock on her bedside table stared back at her, reaching 2:00 a.m.

A weary voice finally responded. “Hello?” 

“Martha, they are here. The twins are here. Ms. Phillips of Loving Hearts called, and Seth is out of town. I don’t know what to do,” she rambled.

“Oh, my goodness. Ann, I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

“Thank you, thank you. Oh, Martha, I had the most horri—”

Martha interrupted her. “Ann, listen to me.”

“Okay,” she said, and closed her eyes, telling herself it was only a nightmare. It wasn’t real.

“Ann, take a deep breath and let it out slowly.”

Ann nodded. “I will. Thank you, Martha.” Then she abruptly hung up the handset and ran to her walk-in closet.

She grabbed a pair of black slacks, a white silk blouse, and her pink stilettos, then stopped in the doorway. “What are you thinking? You’re not showing a house, Ann. It’s the birth of your daughters.” She turned around and placed the heels back on the wall of footwear, then grabbed her black leather penny loafers and a light pink cardigan. “There, much more practical.”

She threw the clothes on the bed and did as Martha told her, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. With Seth out of town, she was grateful that Martha would be at the hospital with her. But even with the news of the twins’ early arrival, she still felt a deep sadness. “Seth, our daughters are here. If only you were. Why must they always send you so far from me?”

The two women stood peering through the glass barrier. Compassion and fear covered Ann’s deep brown eyes. The neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) seemed such a cold, sterile environment with so many monitors and wires that snaked over the twins’ tiny bodies. Ann was desperate to cradle her newborn daughters in her arms.

At two and a half pounds, Danielle’s imperfect heart was monitored closely, and with any luck, she would not require surgery to repair the small hole. Michelle was stronger, stable, and two pounds more than her identical twin sister.

Ann’s voice cracked. “It’s too soon. They weren’t supposed to come until August.”

She felt Martha’s arm wrap around her. “They are in excellent hands, dear.”

Sadness lingered in Ann’s eyes. Was the universe once again telling her she was not meant to be a mother?