I carried the box into our bedroom, closed the door, and sat on the edge of the bed.

For nearly a minute, I simply stared at it.

Then I lifted the lid.

A folded note lay on top.

“Dawn,

Please don’t show this to anyone until you finish reading.fel

Don’t trust Grandma.”

I stopped breathing.

Beneath the letter was a hospital bracelet.

Tiny.

Faded.

Yellowed around the edges.

The printed name on it was Rowan.

Behind the bracelet was a photograph of a young man standing near a lake.

He had Riley’s mouth.

Rex’s height.

Watson’s jaw.

And my eyes.

A sound escaped me that I had never heard myself make before.

Watson knocked.

“Dawn?”

I couldn’t answer.

“Dawn, open the door.”

My fingers shook as I unlocked it.

He walked inside and immediately saw the open box on the bed.

I raised the bracelet.

“It says Rowan.”

Watson’s face drained of color.

His gaze moved to the photograph before he dropped heavily onto the bed beside me.

“No.”

I handed him the letter.

“Read it.”

He shook his head.

“Watson. Read it.”

His voice cracked on the first sentence.

“My name is Rowan. I was told you loved my brothers but couldn’t love all three of us.”

Watson covered his mouth.

I took the letter back and forced myself to continue.

“I didn’t believe that at first.

Then I found papers with your signatures. I don’t know if you gave me away or if someone made that choice for you. But I need the truth before I spend the rest of my life hating the wrong person.

I found your address in a locked folder my adoptive parents kept with my bracelet, placement papers, and your signed forms.”