TILDAMy son, Denzel, had Huntington’s Disease—a cruel, relentless condition that I had fought tooth and nail to manage for him. And now, here was Oscar, displaying symptoms so eerily familiar that it sent a chill through me.He had been admitted to the hospital recently, though he had brushed it off as mere exhaustion. But I knew better. I had seen these signs before. The subtle loss of coordination, the brief lapses in control—things others might overlook, but I couldn’t.Yet, despite what I suspected, I couldn’t say anything. Not without exposing a truth I had kept buried for years. My children—my quadruplets—were my greatest secret. A secret I had protected at all costs, for their safety and for mine.Revealing what I knew now would only invite questions I wasn’t prepared to answer. Still, ignoring what I saw felt impossible.Just as I was lost in thought, a voice pulled me back.“Hello, Tilda,” a coworker greeted with a knowing smirk.I turned, recognizing the speaker. “Lovett,”
Last Updated : 2025-04-03 Read more