sitting in front of me. I asked whether she still had the message. She did. Later that afternoon, I would find it in an old account, unread, between invoices I had considered worth checking.
“What happens now?” I asked. Claire folded the envelope flap. “That depends on whether you want to know them, or whether you want to fix how you feel today.” I had no quick answer. She told me that the twins had a settled routine, people they trusted, and a home where they felt secure. They were not waiting for a dramatic arrival. Any introduction would need patience.
I told her I wanted to help. She nodded, but she did not hand me a list or invite me home. We agreed to speak again the following week, after we had both had time to think. As we stood to leave, I asked whether there was someone else
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