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

He looked at me.

“We’re going to do everything we’re supposed to do to make that possible.”

He considered this.

Then:

“So I don’t have to keep my stuff packed?”

“No.”

“Even if the judge hasn’t signed?”

“No.”