Page 67 of Needing to Fall

That was when my heart seemed to fully stop beating as Nurse Hatchet’s story played in my head: her loss, hurt, and mourning for her parents. She had witnessed all of that, and as horrible as it sounded, I was glad Drew and Devin hadn’t seen it with their own eyes.

“This is the kicker. Their mom, Debra, and father, Dennis, only had one living relative: Dennis’s mother who was in her late sixties. She only took one of the boys: Devin.”

More tears spilled from my eyes. I hurt for Drew who was left behind, unwanted.

“She stated she didn’t have the energy for two toddlers, so Drew was put into foster care and given the last name Lewis.”

“He was so young,” I whispered softly, looking back at the pictures of the little boys.

“Yeah, babe. When the grandmother, Bev, died, Devin went into foster care and given the last name James after he was adopted.”

I nodded.

“They never knew the other existed.”

That couldn’t be right. “Surely, the grandmother would have told Devin about his brother.”

He shook his head. “She died a year after Devin went to her. He was only around eighteen months at the time.”

“What about all of her stuff?” Clearly, it had to be somewhere.

He pulled out some other papers. “Auction.”

I grabbed the paper and looked. The state auctioned off all of her belongings, leaving Drew and Devin with nothing.

I gasped. “Oh, no.”

“Yep, so they have no recollection of even their parents, but you probably knew that from Drew.”

Nodding, I said, “He always told me he didn’t think he had real parents because there wasn’t any trace.”

“The only thing I can think is that the grandmother put that as a stipulation.”

The picture of the boys caught my attention again, their little, smiling faces breaking my heart. “Why would she do that?”

Lynx put his arm around my shoulders, and he kissed my temple. “Don’t know, babe. People do crazy shit for different reasons.”

I knew that to be true, but it still sucked.

He released me, going back to the papers. “Devin was adopted.” He handed me the paper, and I stared at it in awe. “Suzanne and Edger James. They kept Devin and just changed his last name to theirs. They adopted him when he was two and a half.”

“Were they good people?” I knew better than most what happened when they were bad.

“Yep. They’re still alive and only have Devin. I ran their names through the system and nothing came up for a Devin James or either of his parents. From what I can tell, they are on the up and up.”

Relief filled me that at least someone in this fucked up mess was able to have a good life, able to have a shot at living happy. “That’s good.”

“The woman you saw, Kelsey, is his wife, and the little boy is Spenser.”

I smiled at that. Devin had a family and had found his slice of the light. Happiness didn’t cover the magnitude of what I felt for them.

Lynx cleared his throat and pulled out another piece of paper. “Brace yourself, babe,” he warned.

I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply as he handed me a crisp, white sheet of paper. Tears gathered in my eyes.

Drew Lewis, 17, died of multiple gunshots in what is believed by police to be a drug deal gone wrong.

“What!” I screeched, still reading the words.