To Lucas, temporary could sound like one more goodbye waiting around the corner.

‘One more thing,’ Victoria said.

‘The state has asked for your complete placement history.

You told me you’ve been in foster care, but the older records are incomplete.

Is there anything you haven’t shared?’

I looked through the window at a brick wall across the alley.

There was no useful way to tell the story of my childhood in three sentences.

‘When I was nine, I sat on a bench much like the one out there,’ I said.