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

I wiped my eyes.

And thank you for keeping my name Reed. I know that sounded small when I was eight. It wasn’t.

I looked at Julian.

We had almost changed it.

Thank God we listened.

I’m going to be fine. You can stop checking my location every seven minutes.

I grabbed my phone.

Julian laughed.