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Six months later, she was dying.
She took my hand and whispered, “Promise me you’ll take my kids. All of them. Don’t let them be split up.”
“You’re the only one I trust,” she said.
Just before she drifted off, she added one strange thing. “Keep a close eye on Rebecca.”
I assumed she meant because Becca was the youngest. I was wrong.
After Rachel passed, the decision was simple. There were no close relatives willing to step in. My husband didn’t even blink.
Overnight, we became a family of six children.
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