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

Mom and Dad,

I’m writing because if I say this out loud Mom will cry and Dad will pretend someone turned on a fan.

Julian objected:

“That happened once.”

I continued.

When I came to your house, I thought permanent meant adults were making a promise they might change later. I had heard permanent words before.

My eyes blurred.

Then the watch fell out. For a while I thought that was the reason I got to stay. I thought being David’s son made me more important to you.