"How are you handling your grief?"
"Because they already lost their parents. They shouldn't have to lose each other, too."
That started months of checks and paperwork.
A therapist I had to see asked, "How are you handling your grief?"
"Badly," I said. "But I'm still here."
***
The first time I met the kids, it was in a visitation room with ugly chairs and fluorescent lights. All four were on one couch, shoulders and knees touching.
"Are you the man who's taking us?"
I sat down across from them.
"Hey, I'm Michael."
Ruby hid her face in Owen's shirt. Cole stared at my shoes. Tessa folded her arms, chin up, pure suspicion. Owen watched me like a little adult.
"Are you the man who's taking us?" he asked.
