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That night before the meeting, Paul and I let Austin sleep in our bed. We held him close while he drifted off.
“He’s still our son, right?” I whispered through tears. “We raised him. We’ve loved him for four years. I don’t want to give him up.”
Paul squeezed my hand tightly. “Of course, he’s our son. No one’s taking him from us,” he reassured me.
