“He told me Austin was thrilled about getting his own big bedroom at my house and excited to go fishing at the neighborhood pond with my neighbor,” Joanie confessed.

A dry, bitter laugh broke out of my throat, sounding wild and unhinged even to my own ears.

“Austin has been sleeping with his Little League glove under his pillow, Joanie, and he just offered me a hundred and forty-six dollars of his birthday savings so he wouldn’t be thrown away,” I sobbed into the phone.

“Sweet Jesus, who in God’s name told that poor, sweet boy he was being thrown away?” Joanie gasped, her motherly instincts plainly horrified.

“He overheard Gretchen telling Peter that he’s adopted and that now we’ve got two real babies to pay for,” I explained, wiping my nose on the hem of my shirt.