I Adopted Four Brothers and Sisters Who Were About to Be Torn Apart

At one point, a therapist asked me, “How are you coping with your grief?”

“Not well,” I admitted honestly. “But I’m still here.”

The first time I met the children, we sat in a visitation room filled with harsh fluorescent lights and uncomfortable chairs.

All four sat pressed together on one couch, shoulders touching.

I took a seat across from them.

“Hey, I’m Michael.”