Please don’t show this to anyone until you finish reading.
Don’t trust Grandma.”
I stopped breathing.
Beneath the letter was a hospital bracelet.
Tiny.
Faded.
Yellowed around the edges.
The printed name on it was Rowan.
Behind the bracelet was a photograph of a young man standing near a lake.
He had Riley’s mouth.
Rex’s height.
Watson’s jaw.
And my eyes.
A sound escaped me that I had never heard myself make before.
Watson knocked.
“Dawn?”
I couldn’t answer.
“Dawn, open the door.”
My fingers shook as I unlocked it.
He walked inside and immediately saw the open box on the bed.
I raised the bracelet.
“It says Rowan.”
Watson’s face drained of color.
His gaze moved to the photograph before he dropped heavily onto the bed beside me.
“No.”
I handed him the letter.
“Read it.”
He shook his head.
“Watson. Read it.”
His voice cracked on the first sentence.
“My name is Rowan. I was told you loved my brothers but couldn’t love all three of us.”
Watson covered his mouth.
I took the letter back and forced myself to continue.
“I didn’t believe that at first.
Then I found papers with your signatures. I don’t know if you gave me away or if someone made that choice for you. But I need the truth before I spend the rest of my life hating the wrong person.
I found your address in a locked folder my adoptive parents kept with my bracelet, placement papers, and your signed forms.”
I stared at Watson.
“I didn’t give him away.”
“I know.”
“I would’ve crawled through fire for him.”
“I know, Dawn.”
“Then why does he have our signatures?”
Watson looked toward the box.
“What else is in there?”
I pulled out a photocopied form.
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