I Was Told My Newborn Had Died—Then My Eight-Year-Old Son Asked Why Daddy Had Paid Aunt Rachel to Take the Crying Bundle

I reached for it.

“Of course.”

He watched me open the paper.

I thought he was worried that the drawing would make me cry.

Perhaps that was part of it.

Later, I understood that he was also watching to see whether I would say something about the missing person.

I thanked him and placed it on the bedside table.

He left quietly.