After Heart Surgery, I Woke Up to Learn My Three Children Had Gone Home Because Hospital Parking Was Too Expensive. I Lay There in Tears Until a Well-Dressed Stranger Entered,

Peterson. I became Malcolm Chen after I was adopted. When I was ten.” Recognition took me to Franklin Elementary in South Seattle, 1978: a thin boy with stubborn dark hair, an oversized plaid shirt folded four times at the cuffs, and sneakers worn through at the toes. His brown eyes lowered as other children unpacked paper sacks or cartoon lunchboxes. With no lunch of his own, he watched silently, pretending to read whenever noticed.

“You were hungry,” I whispered.

Malcolm nodded slowly.

“You noticed,” Memories returned. In 1978 I was