“My mom hasn’t woken up in three days.” At just seven years old, she pushed a wheelbarrow for miles to save her newborn twin brothers. What followed stunned the entire hospital.

“My mom hasn’t woken up for three days…”
The words came out of the little girl’s throat raw and broken as she pushed an old wheelbarrow down the cracked dirt road.
Her name was Lucía Morales, only seven years old, her hands swollen and blistered from the rusted handles biting into her skin.

Inside the wheelbarrow, wrapped in blankets far too thin for the biting dawn air, lay her newborn twin brothers.
Mateo.
Samuel.
They weren’t sleeping.
They were fighting—each shallow breath a fragile battle.

Their home sat miles away from the nearest town, isolated among dry fields and silence. A year earlier, their father had been taken by a workplace accident, leaving Lucía and her mother, Carmen, clinging to survival through whatever work they could find. Hunger had become familiar. Fear, constant.

Carmen had given birth alone.
No doctor.
No midwife.
No one.

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