Chapter 5 - Begging for Crumbs
Maya’s house was small, with a chipping paint porch and a tire swing in the front yard. It was exactly the kind of house Harrison had promised her in college.
When she opened the door, she tried to close it immediately, but Harrison caught it with his hand.
"Maya, please," he begged, tears streaming down his face. "Please. Just five minutes."
Reluctantly, she let him into the kitchen. The triplets were at preschool. The house smelled like cinnamon and crayons.
He dropped to his knees right there on the linoleum floor. He handed her the medical file.
"She lied," Harrison sobbed, the polished CEO entirely gone. "My mother bribed the doctor. There was nothing wrong with us. She stole five years of my life. She stole you. I am so sorry, Maya. I am so damn sorry."
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Maya read the papers. Her hands shook. A single tear fell onto the manila folder. But when she looked down at Harrison, her eyes were hardened by four years of single motherhood.
"She didn't steal me, Harrison," Maya said quietly. "You let me go. You looked at the floor when she insulted me. You didn't protect me then. Why should I believe you'll protect my children now?"
