“Alfie, you’re our only son. You’re the one who gets all our love. Do you really want to bring home a brother who’ll take half of that away?”
My son was still young, but after thinking it over, he seemed to understand where I was coming from.
“I’ll listen to you, Dad.”
I let out a sigh of relief.
But then Tyrell’s eyes started to turn red.
He struggled to wheel himself over in front of us.
“Sir… life here ain’t what you think. Folks donate what they can, but it’s barely enough. I was born like this—I can’t walk, so I can’t fight the other kids for stuff. And the director? He only really look out for the healthy ones. They got a shot at gettin’ adopted. Ain’t nobody checkin’ for somebody like me.”
“It’s been years, and y’all the only ones who ever really talked to me… or got me somethin’. If y’all don’t take me this time… I might not even be here next time you come around.”
“I’m beggin’ you, alright? Sir, I know y’all doin’ good. Takin’ care of me wouldn’t even be that hard. I could help out around the house, look after your son—I’ll do whatever. I ain’t scared of hard work.”
That calculating look in his eyes sent a chill down my spine.
I took a step back and pulled my son close to me.