My Aunt Wanted Custody of My Brother—But I Knew Her True Motives

apartment that smelled like floor cleaner and old takeout. The mattress pressed against one wall, the futon against the other.

But somehow, Max still smiled.

“This place is tiny but warm,” he said one night, wrapping himself in a blanket like a burrito. “It smells like pizza… and home.”

Those words nearly broke me.

But they also gave me the strength to continue reading …