“Everybody. They said Emma deserved stability.”
I felt anger rising.
“And you agreed?”
“I was fourteen. They kept asking what I thought was best for her.”
After the separation, Luke began sabotaging his placements.
He laughed bitterly.
“So I said yes.”
After the separation, Luke began sabotaging his placements.
Not dramatically.
He never became violent.
“Mostly. Sometimes I just didn’t feel like talking anymore.”
He simply learned how to make people give up.
“I’d stop talking,” he said.
“On purpose?”
“Mostly. Sometimes I just didn’t feel like talking anymore.”
“What else?”
“Because if I got adopted somewhere else, Emma might think I chose another family over her.”
“Refuse outings. Stay in my room. Say stuff I knew would hurt them.”
“Why?”
His chin shook.
“Because if I got adopted somewhere else, Emma might think I chose another family over her.”
Suddenly, ten placements looked completely different.
Once, when a foster mother started discussing permanent guardianship, he packed his bags before she could finish.
“Did every family reject you?”
Luke shook his head.
“How many did you push away?”
“I don’t know.”
“Luke.”
“Because leaving hurts less when you decide when it happens.”
“Most.”
Once, when a foster mother started discussing permanent guardianship, he packed his bags before she could finish.
“I wanted to leave first.”
“Why?”
“Because leaving hurts less when you decide when it happens.”
Then he said the part that broke me.
I had to look away.
Then he said the part that broke me.
“I was going to do it to you.”
I turned back.
“What?”
Despite everything, I almost laughed.
“When I moved in, I had a plan. Give it a couple months. Then start acting different.”
“But you didn’t.”
Tears ran down his face.
“I messed up.”
Despite everything, I almost laughed.
“Then I started loving you.”
“How?”
“I liked being here.”
He covered his face.
“Then I started loving you.”
I moved around the table.
“Then the adoption happened, and all I could think was that Emma would hate me.”
“I called you Mom without meaning to. Then the adoption happened, and everybody was happy, and all I could think was that Emma would hate me.”
I sat beside him.
“You should have told me.”
“I know.”
“Why wasn’t Emma discussed during Luke’s adoption?”
“But you are not going anywhere. You’re my son. Adoption wasn’t a trial period.”
His shoulders collapsed.
The next morning, I called Denise.
“Why wasn’t Emma discussed during Luke’s adoption?”
There was a long silence.
“There were decisions made between the adults involved at the time.”
“The history was in the older records, but direct contact had become restricted years ago while Emma adjusted to her placement.”
“Restricted by whom?”
“There were decisions made between the adults involved at the time. Letters were routed through them. Contact was supposed to be revisited.”
“Supposed to be?”
“Did Luke have contact with her?”
Another silence.
“It wasn’t handled well.”
“Did Luke have contact with her?”
“He sent letters.”
“Did Emma answer?”
When I asked him, he returned carrying an old shoebox.
“I don’t know.”
Luke did.
When I asked him, he returned carrying an old shoebox.
Inside were copies of dozens of letters.
Birthday letters.
Letters ending with the same sentence.
Christmas letters.
Letters asking about school.
Letters ending with the same sentence.
I’m still your brother.
“She never answered one,” Luke said.
A few days later, she told me Emma’s parents were willing to talk, but they wanted to move slowly.
Something wasn’t right.
Denise made several calls. A few days later, she told me Emma’s parents were willing to talk, but they wanted to move slowly.
“Maybe we should wait before putting Luke and Emma in the same room,” she said. “Let the adults work through the history first.”
I stared at her.
“The adults have been deciding what those two can handle for years.”
“I’m asking you not to turn ‘slowly’ into another few years.”
“Caroline—”
“I’m not asking you to throw them together without support. I’m asking you not to turn ‘slowly’ into another few years.”
Denise was quiet.
“A supervised meeting,” I said. “If Luke wants it and Emma wants it.”
Eventually, everyone agreed.
“What if she doesn’t want me?”
