The nurse’s warning whispered in my ear still haunted me: “Ask your son what happened at 3:00 AM.” Moments later, I eavesdropped on his panicked phone call on the fire escape: “If the police find out, we’re ruined.” My hands shook as I unlocked his briefcase in his office. The horrific adoption contract inside changed everything…
My chest tightened. Daniel was predictable. He had used the same three-digit code for his bicycle lock, his gym locker, and his luggage since he was fourteen years old.
0-8-2. His birth month and year.
I spun the tiny brass dials. Click. The latch sprang open.
Inside was a thick manila envelope. I pulled out the stack of papers, the harsh continue reading …
