Page 98 of Wolf's Chance

“They were bad to you?”

I gasped at the thought. “No! They were wonderful people.” Pushing my hair behind my ear, I knew I was glaring at him. “They did their best, and that’s all I could ask for. They loved me.”

“Well…” He shrugged. “I’d have asked for the adoption papers to be signed.”

“Says the guy who’s never been in the care system.”

“Caring andcommittingare two different things.”Doc’s words hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning that I didn’t want to investigate further. But I knew it would keep me awake tonight… “Did they ever tell you why?”

I opened my mouth to respond but found myself at a loss for words. The honest answer was that they hadn’t. It was a question I’d never thought to ask. I’d accepted it, convincing myself that it held no significance. Yet, as he scrutinized me intensely, I began to understand it held a little significance.

To me.

Had it always? Jan and John loved me, cared for me, gave me a home… Did it matter they hadn’t fully adopted me?

“I never asked,” I admitted quietly. “Maybe I didn’t want to know the answer.”

He nodded slowly as if he understood more than he was letting on. “The answers we often shy away from are the ones that have the most profound impact on our lives.”

He may as well have punched me in the gut.

His statement rocked me. I’d told myself that it didn’t matter, that I was fine with how things had been. But maybe Iwasn’tfine. Maybe I had just buried those questions so deeply that I’d forgotten they were there, festering.

Like Caleb had.

I looked away, the weight of Doc’s words settling over me. “What’s the relevance?”

“Because it matters,” he said simply, his voice gentle. “And because I think you deserve to know why they didn’t make you a permanent part of their family.”

I swallowed hard, feeling the sting of old wounds being reopened. “And what if the answer isn’t one I wanted to hear?”

“Then at least you’d have known,” he replied, his eyes softening. “And knowing is the first step toward healing.”

I stood there wondering if what he said was true and how that made me feel, but I remembered my foster parents, remembered how they had cared about me. So I wasn’t adopted, but it didn’t mean they hadn’t loved me. Yes, maybe it had bothered me when I was younger—this morning’s conversation suggested it still did—but my mind thought back to the sketches in my room. Knowing that someone had lived throughthat? The fact I wasn’t adopted was irrelevant. There were more important things to deal with, ones that brought me here in the first place, that I needed to focus on.

“So, my drawings?” I watched Doc straighten a little. “That’s why I’m here, right?”

I watched as a small smile played on his lips. “Yes, it is.”

“Then why am I waiting?”

“We need one more person here for you,” Doc reminded me. “He isn’t here yet.”

“Right…the doctor.”

“Yeah.” He looked uncomfortable, and I wanted to push, but I didn’t. “Has it only ever been Caleb you’ve drawn in advance before meeting them?” Doc focused on me. “I think there was a better way to phrase that.”

“The only person? Yes, I think so?” I thought about it. “He’s the only one I ever turned around and found facing me,” I added ruefully.

“What was that like?” he asked, his gaze unwavering.

“Unnerving. I thought it was weird, and then I realized I must have seen him before.”

“But you hadn’t?”

“But I hadn’t.”

“And did it strike you as odd?” He sounded more intrigued than skeptical, which was nice, but still, it was uncomfortable to be talking about it.

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