The plan was to split them up on top of that.
Picked it up again.
I knew what it was like to walk out of a hospital alone.
Those kids had already lost their parents.
At that moment, the plan was to split them up on top of that.
I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw four kids in some office, holding hands, waiting to hear who was leaving.
"Child Services, this is Karen."
In the morning, the post was still on my screen. There was a number at the bottom. Before I could talk myself out of it, I hit call.
"Child Services, this is Karen," a woman said.
"Hi," I said. "My name is Michael Ross. I saw the post about the four siblings. Are they still… needing a home?"
She paused.
You're just asking questions.
"Yes," she said. "They are."
"Can I come in and talk about them?"
She sounded surprised. "Of course. We can meet this afternoon."
On the drive over, I kept telling myself, You're just asking questions.
