One of My Triplet Sons Died Shortly After Birth — Then, on Their 18th Birthday, I Found a Gift Box on My Doorstep Labeled “Happy Birthday, Brothers.”

She sent photographs.

I put them in an album next to the twins’.

A boy with our mouth on a sled.

A boy in a hospital gown smiling because someone had brought a balloon.

A boy at a piano he did not love.

I cried over the balloon more than the piano.