She handed the envelope across the gray metal table to Rachel.

“The state recognizes you as the temporary foster guardian,” Ms.

Higgins said.

Rachel put the envelope in her large canvas tote bag.

I gripped the plastic arms of my transport wheelchair, expecting someone to give some final instruction.

Ms.

Higgins just turned back to her keyboard.

I didn’t look back at the empty chairs where my former parents had been sitting minutes earlier.