Chapter 3 - The Box in the AtticThe very next morning, I called Patrice directly. "Why exactly wasn't Willa ever discussed during Callum's own adoption process?"
A long silence followed. "There were certain decisions made between the adults involved, at the time." "The history itself sat buried in older records, but direct contact had become restricted years back, while Willa was still adjusting to her own placement." "Restricted by whom, exactly?" "Letters were routed through certain channels. Contact was always supposed to be revisited eventually." "Supposed to be?" "It genuinely wasn't handled well."
"Did Callum ever have contact with her?" Another silence. "He sent letters regularly." "Did Willa ever answer them?" "I don't actually know."
Callum did know, though. When I asked him directly, he returned carrying an old shoebox. Inside sat copies of dozens of letters — birthday letters, Christmas letters, letters asking about school. Nearly every single one ended with the exact same sentence. I'm still your brother. "She never once answered a single one," Callum said quietly.
Something clearly wasn't right about any of this.
Patrice made several calls on our behalf. A few days later, she told me Willa's parents were genuinely willing to talk, though they wanted to move slowly through the whole process. "Maybe we should wait a while, before putting Callum and Willa in the same room together," she suggested. "Let the adults involved work through the history first, properly."
I stared at her. "The adults involved have already been deciding what those two kids can handle, for years running now."
"Caroline—"
"I'm not asking you to throw them together without proper support," I said firmly. "I'm asking you not to let 'slowly' quietly turn into another few lost years."
Patrice stayed quiet a moment. "A supervised meeting," I offered instead. "Only if Callum genuinely wants it, and Willa genuinely wants it too."
Eventually, everyone involved agreed to it. Callum very nearly refused to go at all. "What if she doesn't actually want me there?" "Then we'll fully respect that." "What if she hates me?" "Then you'll survive hearing the actual truth, whatever it turns out to be." "And if she's simply forgotten me entirely?" I genuinely couldn't answer that particular question for him.
Willa's adoptive parents, Louise and Nolan, met us together in their own living room. Louise looked visibly nervous. Nolan looked openly ashamed. After roughly ten minutes of strained, careful conversation, Louise went upstairs briefly. She returned carrying a plastic storage bin, setting it down directly in front of Callum.
"What is this?" he asked.
"Letters."
She opened the lid. Envelopes filled the entire bin. Every single one carried Callum's own name written across it. He picked one up carefully. The handwriting inside was distinctly childish. LUKE.
"She wrote back to me?" His whole face changed instantly.
"Yes. All this time, actually."
Louise started crying. "Your letters came through directly to us first. At the very beginning, everyone genuinely believed limiting direct contact might help Willa settle in properly. She kept writing replies anyway, regardless."
Callum stared hard into the box. "Then why didn't I ever actually receive them?"
Louise wiped at her own eyes. "We kept telling ourselves we'd send them along, once things felt more genuinely stable. Then too much time simply passed, and admitting we'd waited so long became considerably harder to actually do." Nolan looked down at the floor. "We should have fixed it properly, a long time ago."
Callum opened one letter with shaking hands. From upstairs, a door opened somewhere. A girl appeared at the top of the staircase. She stared down at Callum. Neither one of them spoke a single word. Then she ran back upstairs again just as quickly.
Callum's face crumpled entirely. "I knew it," he whispered.
May you like
But footsteps came thundering back down the stairs immediately afterward. Willa came running back, carrying a battered old stuffed rabbit in both arms. Callum stopped breathing entirely. She held it up toward him. "You gave me Mr. Buttons."
Callum covered his own mouth with one hand. Willa ran straight into him. He dropped to his knees and wrapped both arms around her tight. I looked away deliberately, and didn't approach either of them. That particular moment belonged entirely to the two of them alone.
