As it was so late when we had this conversation, we both decided to get some sleep and call the Christopher’s in the morning.
In bed, I couldn’t sleep at all, wondering what a reunion might look like between Logan and his foster parents. He couldn’t sleep either from what I could tell, tossing and turning.
Worriedly, I reached out and touched his back, after he rolled on his side away from me.
“You okay?” I asked him. I kept my voice soft, but in the quiet dark of the bedroom, it still seemed too loud.
“I don’t know,” he replied. His voice was just as soft, just as loud. “For years, I thought the Christopher’s were only after the Hatfield’s money. It’s hard to convince myself otherwise now, even with the things you are telling me.”
“I know you are helping to support them,” I said, re
