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 was relieved he had known love.
Angry he never called.
Proud he recovered from gambling.
Furious he let shame keep him away.
Grateful he loved Oliver.
Sad that Oliver lost him.
No closure.
Context.
