She stared at the big house like it was a movie. “You live here?” she finally asked, her voice quiet. “Naomi didn’t answer. She was still staring out the window.” When the car stopped at the entrance, two uniformed workers ran out. One of them opened Naomi’s door. Another reached to carry the babies, but she pulled back quickly.
“Don’t touch them,” she said. The worker stepped aside, confused. Naomi stepped out carefully, holding the babies to her chest, her designer dress stained from their dusty old wrappers. Anita stepped out slowly, too. She wiped her feet on the mat like she didn’t want to stain anything. Matthew stood by the door, whispering something to one of the guards.
The look on his face showed confusion and worry. Inside the house, the lights were warm. The smell of lemon polish filled the air. A giant chandelier hung above the marble floor and soft music was playing from hidden speakers. Anita stopped at the door. She looked down at her muddy feet. Naomi turned around.
What is it? She looked up. I’m dirty. Naomi stared at her for a second. Then she walked back and opened a nearby cabinet. She brought out a towel. Step in. She obeyed. Naomi handed her the towel. Wipe your feet. She bent down quickly and did as she said. Then Naomi called out, Joy. A woman in a lavender housekeeper uniform rushed in. Yes, madam.
Get a bowl of water and tell Dr. Andrew to come immediately. Joy nodded and ran off. Anita watched everything quietly. Her eyes scanned the ceiling, the painting on the wall, the gold trimmings on the staircase. She had never seen anything like this before. Naomi walked to the living room and gently placed the babies on a soft white couch.
One of them stirred and let out a small cry. Anita ran over. “Is he okay?” she asked. Naomi looked at her. “Which one is which?” she asked. “That’s James.” “The other one is Joseph.” She blinked slowly. James and Joseph,” she repeated as if testing how the names sounded in her mouth. “Lovely names.” Naomi stared at the babies again.
She didn’t know why she brought them here, but her eyes couldn’t forget what they saw. Those hazel eyes, those rare golden brown eyes. Her late husband had them, and now so did these babies. A few minutes later, a middle-aged man in a white coat walked in with a black medical bag. “Good evening, madam,” he said, bowing slightly.
Doctor, thank you for coming quickly, Naomi said standing. Please check them. They’ve been under the hot sun and their breath feels weak. The doctor bent over the babies, placed his hand gently on their foreheads, and began his checkup. Anita stood at the corner, watching silently. After 10 minutes, the doctor looked up. “They’re very weak, probably from hunger.
” “Are they safe?” Naomi asked. “They are stable for now, but they need rest, milk, and close care.” Naomi nodded. Do what you need to do. As the doctor set up a small drip bag for each child, Naomi turned to Anita. Have they been eating? She nodded slowly. I try to feed them everyday, but it’s hard. What do you give them? Sometimes pap, sometimes soaked bread.
If I get money, I buy milk, but most days I don’t get anything. She stared at her. Where do you live? Anita lowered her head. I sleep at the back of the church under the wooden shed. She blinked slowly. Just you and the babies. Yes. How long? Since James and Joseph were born. Naomi pressed her lips tightly. She didn’t like the way her chest felt.
