The youngest, still wearing a padded jacket two sizes too big, sat on Eli's lap and gripped a stuffed rabbit that was missing one ear.
Three weeks earlier, I had not known any of them.
I had been in my workshop, sanding a table for a client in the next town while listening to the radio.
Then, I saw their faces on the emergency placement registry, and something old and buried in my chest tightened so painfully that I could hardly breathe.
I emptied my savings account that same night.
"Sir?" Eli looked at me, and his voice was barely a whisper. "Are they going to take us to different houses?"
"Not if I can help it, buddy."
"Do you promise?"
I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
I had never made a promise like that aloud in my entire life.
"I promise that I'm going to try harder than I've ever tried at anything."
He nodded once, as though that answer was enough, and turned back to his sister.
Then, the bailiff stepped into the hallway and called our case number.
Diane, my attorney, pulled me into a small side room the moment the court recessed.
"They moved quickly, Carter," she said. "They arranged everything overnight."
"How quickly?"
"Three transport vans are scheduled for Friday. The children will be sent to three different counties."
