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“No. Jerry and Dad made a plan. They decided they’d round up the kids. Then they’d adopt them out to wealthy families.”
“Why would any of the kids agree to this?”
“Most of them were young,” Phoenix says. “Like, eight, nine, or ten. This wasn’t older teenagers. The kids who hung around here were really little. The foster care system in Siren City is trash.”
“He’s right,” I say. “I don’t know where the kids went. I’m guessing across the country. Dad and Jerry had lots of friends in lots of high places.”
“And what? They just forged adoption paperwork?”
“As far as I can tell,” I sigh. “Yes. That’s exactly what they did. They sent the kids to live with wealthy couples who wanted a kid. Not the worst life in the world.”
“But it’s not legal or moral. It’s definitely not ethical,” Oscar says. “What if those kids had family members who wanted to take care of them? When a kid goes into the system, there’s a period of time where the judge and social workers will try to connect them with their family. These kids didn’t get that chance, did they?”
“They never got that chance. Plus, without the oversight of a legal adoption, there was no one to check up on them.”
“Meaning?”
“Generally, when a child is adopted through a private adoption agency, or even through foster care, social workers check up on them for a period of time after the adoption takes place,” I explain. “In the case of our father’s adoption scheme, he didn’t do follow-up, which means those kids could have been abused or neglected. No one would ever know.”
“Or they could have been subjected to life as the kid of an arrogant bastard,” Phoenix adds. He really, really hates our dad. I wonder if the pain of losing a chance to get revenge on our father will ever fade for Phoenix. He’s 38 now, nearly middle aged, and he still holds a grudge he can’t seem to get rid of.
“So, what are we supposed to do about this now?” Oscar asks. He starts pacing back and forth the way I do when I’m upset. We’ve got that much in common.
“How many kids did they take?” Phoenix asks. “And is it still going on?”
“My guess is at least two dozen over a decade.”
“Shit.”
“But the good news, I suppose, is that there hasn’t been any information on recent abductions or adoptions.”
“At least we’ve got that going for us,” Phoenix says sarcastically. “Shit. I need a fucking drink.”
THE INFORMATION SHATTERS my soul, and I have nothing I can do except close my eyes and pretend like the world is different than it is.
I don’t really want to be here.
There’s a bar a few blocks from the hotel. It’s a dive bar, which means nobody who frequents this place is going to know me or my brothers. It’s a bunch of regulars - veterans with their hats and LGBTQ community members who just want a place to belong.
At Brewer’s Inn, everyone belongs.
This is the type of place where anyone can go and just be.
So that’s what I’m doing.
I order a drink and then another. Phoenix and Oscar match me drink-for-drink. We’re three in when Oscar places a hand on my shoulder.
“What?” My voice is gruff and annoyed, but I’m not bothered. Not with him. Not really, anyway. There’s a part of me that wants him here because Oscar and Phoenix are the only ones who know what I’ve gone through. They’re the only people in the world who understand what it’s like to be me. Nobody has dealt with the pain I’ve dealt with except for them.
For our entire lives, it’s been us vs the world.
“He fooled us all, you know.”
“I’m aware.”
“None of us canchange what he did,” Phoenix adds.
“Again, I’m aware. That doesn’t change the fact that I hate him for it,” I tell them. “He screwed over so many kids. What are we supposed to do now? Really? It’s not like there’s a guidebook for this. It’s not like when your dad dies you just get this list of messes you need to remember to clean up.”
