Chapter 30

“I think you like things that way because your childhood was so chaotic. How many years did you spend in foster homes?” Greg put on his turn signal.

“Since I was a baby—my mother was a junkie who managed to stay clean for the nine months it took to have me then immediately jumped off the wagon with enthusiasm—but she would never sign the paperwork to release me for adoption. For the first eight years I have fleeting memories of flying visits. She was always with a different man and this was going to be the one who would let her take me home. It never happened. I didn’t see her after I was eight. The social worker thought she overdosed but they never had proof so they couldn’t release me from the system until I was eighteen.”

“So you never had the opportunity to be adopted and have a family of your own?” Greg was sympathetic.