Cowboys don't wear pink.
"His name is Jason Monroe. He turns three next month." The adoption manager says, pushing a file towards Tobias and I. It's open and packed full of information, the papers thick and stacked on top of one another. In the corner is a small photograph of Jason and I automatically feel drawn to it. There's something about the sadness in his eyes that makes me want to take it away.
"What's his story?" Tobias says, quickly skimming over the page. There's a pause in the room and I glance up at her from under my lashes. She's sitting in her office chair with her back straight but her eyes diverted to the floor. She releases a heavy sigh before her eyes flicker back up to meet mine.
"It's a very long one. Jason came to us three months ago from his mothers house. We don't know where his biological father is despite getting in touch with him numerous times. There were suspicions that Jason was being. . . mistreated." She says, her eyes flashing with a mixed sadness and anger.