Adopted Son Read Online Free PDF Page B

left the kitchen, chasing after the children. Lorraine put down the coffee and reached into the bassinet. She touched Jim lightly on the forehead. His skin was soft. If she closed her eyes she could almost imagine that he was normal.
    A radio was humming softly on the windowsill. “Crazy, crazy for being without you....” This was a hard road that the Lord had put her down. It was going to take a lot of her inner strength to make it through. She just hoped that Tom had enough inner strength as well.
     
    Two months before Colin Hayes performed his viral assay, Saint Maria Inglasias Hospital, Bronx, NY
     
    The orderlies were at work cleaning the infant care ward. They moved furiously, with a drive that was seldom seen in this dreary place. Child Protective Services was coming today, and if the floor wasn’t clean, they would hear it from the nurses. They mopped all around the little cribs, being very careful. This was the ward for the sickest children. Incubators lined the walls. They had to be very cautious in here. All of these kids had problems. If they woke up even one, all the rest would soon join in a din of cries and screams. But the orderlies did their work gently, and all the children slept quietly, even the little freak that the cops had brought in three months ago.
    Two nameless CPS officers walked down the cold, tile hallway. You could hear the clack-clack of their heels all the way down the hall. It was an old hospital, built in an almost forgotten age when arches, wood stylings, and pressed tin ceiling tiles were in fashion. You could still barely make out the classic style as it attempted to get through the layer after layer of thick white paint that covered everything. The officers, one male and one female, were on their way to meet with the staff pediatrician, Dr. Julio Espisito. They took their job seriously, and this case would be difficult. “So, what are the special procedures for this kid again?” said the male CPS worker to his female colleague.
    “I’m not sure. This one has got...,” she flipped through her notepad to get the answer, “...Handel’s Syndrome. It says here that there are severe defects to the eyes and facial features. There is a discoloration of the skin. Hmmm, what else... There doesn’t appear to be any decline in motor skills or intelligence.”
    “Appears to be? What do you mean, appears to be?”
    “Whatever this disease is, it is pretty new. No one knows what causes it. The first known cases just started popping up about a year or two ago.”
    “So no one knows what the long lasting symptoms are?”
    “That’s right.”
    He sighed, “This is going to be a tough kid to place then isn’t it?”
    “That’s what I thought. I doubt that any foster parents will take someone with such a rare condition. And even if we did find a parent, would a judge allow it? The rules are more stringent for handicapped kids. The parents would have to show that they knew how to meet the child’s special needs, and that may not be possible since we don’t even know what those needs are.”
    The two officers arrived at Dr. Espisito’s door. It was made of old, cracked wood with a large glazed glass window set into it. The light was on inside. The agents opened without knocking. Dr. Espisito was sitting at his desk reading a trade magazine. He immediately recognized the agents and stood up to greet them. “Ah, you must be the people from CPS that called this morning. Agents Anderson and Davidson I presume.”
    The agents exchanged pleasantries with the doctor and sat down in threadbare but comfortable chairs. The doctor offered some coffee from a drip machine on a bookcase shelf, but the agents refused. “I assume that you are here about Baby Doe?” said Dr. Espisito as he sank back into his chair, steaming cup of coffee in hand.
    “That’s correct Doctor. We’ve just been assigned to the case.”
    “You know, he’s been here for almost three months now. You’ve taken your