Evelyn moved him to a second household, where he stayed four years until the couple divorced.

He was moved a third time not long before he ended up on my porch, when the people keeping him panicked, fearing they would be caught with a child who had no legal papers, and called Evelyn in the night demanding she take him back.

For the first time in years she had a child and no buyer waiting.

And so she reached for the safest hiding place she could think of: the one house no investigator would ever search for a trafficked child, because everyone believed that child was dead and buried.

His own father’s home.