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
“Julian and I may fight.
We could even someday make adult decisions you don’t like.”
His face tightened.
“But adoption does not disappear because adults argue.”
“What if you divorce?”
The question hurt.
“You would still be our son.”
“Both?”
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