I was 18 years old when my mother died. At the same time, my brothers—newborn triplets—were still tiny, still figuring out how to exist in the world. Three babies, fresh from the hospital, surrounded by that sterile smell and those clear plastic bassinets… and then, all at once, they were mine to protect.
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My name is Cade. I’m 29 now, and when I look back, it feels like my life split into two parts: before I became their guardian, and everything that came after.
