“So, Alex. What do you like to do for fun?” I asked over a mouthful of Chuck E. Cheese’s artificial-tasting pizza.

“I don’t really do fun stuff. Fun stopped after mommy went away.” He had slowed down now.

I wanted to cry. But it didn’t seem right in the midst of dozens of five- to nine-year-olds playing arcade games and drowning in ball pits. “Hey, Alex,” I said in my best mommy voice. “Why don’t you play with the other kids? They’re having fun!”

“I don’t really feel like it.”

He hadn’t touched his pizza, either. I sighed. “Alex, sweetie…” I swallowed. How was I supposed to do this? This day…I had met an orphan six-year-old for no good reason—wait. There had to be a reason.

“Alex?” He looked up, chocolate brown eyes staring right into my soul. “Do you know what adoption means?”