Seven months after our divorce, I rushed into St. Jude’s Children’s and Women’s Hospital, still angry at my ex-wife, only to learn that she had just given birth to twin boys, and both of them were mine. Before the night was over, a nurse would place a brass key in my hand and tell me to use it before my own family arrived. And what was waiting for me beyond that was even more shocking.

Now, after giving birth to my twin sons, she had called me here using a private phone number and a mysterious key.

“Why didn’t she just call my office herself over the past few months?” I asked, feeling a lingering sting of resentment.

Nurse Florence hesitated for a moment before answering.

“She was terribly afraid you would refuse to take her call,” Florence admitted softly.

A bitter, humorless laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it.

“She could have at least tried,” I said defensively.

“She did try, many times, but you never answered the phone,” Florence revealed quietly.