“It gives you a permanent residence here, with a trust established in your name,” he said.

“You will never have to worry about your future again,” Lorenzo said.

I looked down at the document, the legal terms crisp and black against the white paper.

I thought of my own daughter, Clara, who had died in that cold hospital room.

I thought of the empty crib I had stared at for months.

Then I looked back at Leo, sleeping peacefully under the soft blue blanket.

“I don’t need a trust, Lorenzo,” I said.

“I just want to make sure he is safe,” I said.

“The trust is for your protection,” Lorenzo said.

“And for his,” he added.

“I want to sign it,” I said.

Lorenzo handed me a heavy silver pen from his pocket.

My hand was steady as I wrote my name at the bottom of the page.

*Hunter Higgins.*

The ink dried quickly in the warm room.

Lorenzo took the paper and signed his own name beneath mine.

“You are part of this family now, Hunter,” Lorenzo said.