The man stopped breathing.

“What did you say?”

The girl carefully shifted one of the babies and reached into her torn jacket.

She pulled out a folded photograph.

The man took it.

His hands began shaking.

In the picture, he stood beside a young woman he hadn’t seen in seven years.

His former fiancée.

She was pregnant.

On the back were four words:

They deserve their father.

The man looked at the girl.

“What was your mother’s name?”

She answered.

His face went pale.

“That’s impossible.”

The girl started crying again.

“She said you didn’t know about us.”

He looked down at the twins.

Then back at her.

“Us?”

She nodded.

“I’m your daughter too.”

The police officer slowly lowered his hand.

The man’s eyes filled.

He had been told the woman he loved left him for someone else.

Now three children stood in front of him.

Hungry.

Alone.

And carrying his face.

He reached toward the girl carefully.

“Why didn’t your mother ever call me?”

The girl looked toward the man in the red tie standing silently behind them.

Her expression changed.

“She tried.”

The suited stranger froze.

The girl pointed at him.

“But that man told her you never wanted to hear from us again.”