The Truth
They invited us inside.
Tyler had spent months in neonatal care before finally going home with them.
The hospital arranged the adoption.
They were told the biological parents believed the baby might not survive.
Tyler listened quietly.
Then he looked at me.
“So I had a brother?”
“Yes,” I said softly.
“What happened to him?”
“He died when he was nine. A car accident.”
Tyler lowered his head.
After a moment he spoke again.
“It almost seems unfair,” he said quietly.
“He was born healthy… and I wasn’t. But I’m still here.”
He looked at his adoptive parents.
“I’m the lucky one.”
His mother wrapped an arm around him.
He leaned into her.
And my heart broke just a little.
Because he was my son.
But he was also theirs.
