“Send him back!”
“But he just got here.”
“I know so it shouldn’t be difficult to put him on a train back to where he came from.”
“Claire,” her husband, Jonah, said with a tired sigh. “Let’s just think about this.”
Claire folded her arms and shook her head, adamant. “There’s nothing to think about. I don’t want him here.”
“But he’s my sister’s child.”
“That sister of yours has lots of children. If she’d keep her legs closed, she wouldn’t have to farm them out for other people to raise. I doubt this one even knows who his father is.” She looked at the boy and shivered. “And I don’t like the way he looks at me. It’s as if he knows something he shouldn’t.”
Claire Swedan wasn’t the only person to feel that way. His mother had felt the same way the moment he was born with his two front teeth intact and big brown eyes that had an eerily observant expression not seen in newborns. Adam Trelawn was born with eyes like that of an old man: Wise, judging eyes.