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

To Evelyn — Always keep finding your way home. Love, David.

The bedroom disappeared.

I was twenty-four again.

David laughing as he showed me the inscription after having it added before I left for graduate school.

“You’re terrible with directions.”

“I own maps.”

“You get lost inside shopping malls.”

“Shut up.”