When the Eight-Year-Old Boy We Were Adopting Came Home With Everything He Owned in a Black Bag—Then My Missing Brother’s Watch Fell Onto His Bed
My hands started shaking before my mind accepted why.
“No.”
I reached forward.
Stopped.
Then looked again.
The leather casing was cracked near the hinge.
A small compass rose had been inlaid in silver.
On the lower corner were two hand-carved initials.
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