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

There was no answer clever enough for that.

So I said:

“We were matched with you before I knew your dad was David.”

“I know.”

“We completed visits.”

“I know.”

“You beat Julian three times at Uno.”

“Four.”