“In general, everything in the adoption folder was false, you say. Look, it happens more often than you think… But the criminal file is brand new, so… Yes, I have a copy here. All right.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, setting off a slow shudder that ran down my whole back before settling into my kidneys. I straightened up. My life was a lie. The DNA tests revealed a completely unique set of genetic baggage for each boy. Perfect strangers. The social worker filled in a series of sheets before handing them to us to initial. I’d already given so many signatures, the gesture had become automatic. There was only one pen. I had to share it with Gregory. We passed it without glancing at each other.
Behind us, a printer rumbled without pause as dozens of sheets piled up. Following my eyes, the social worker explained, “You think this is bad; this is nothing. We shortened the forms this year. It was much worse before.”
He paused for a moment, seemingly lost in contemplation of his diploma, hanging on the wall. “I see more and more cases like yours—not just for adoptive families.”
He took off his glasses and started cleaning them with a handkerchief that matched his bowtie. The glasses were thick. He set them down on our file, which acted as a magnifying glass on one of the paragraphs.
“To be honest, it doesn’t much matter to us. From the moment you renounce your parental rights, Daniil and Vanya will be integrated into the system as two unique individuals. In any case, at their age, it’s unlikely they’d be placed in the same foster home, brothers or not.”
After a brief hesitation, he continued, to himself. “Twins, I don’t know… It’s different, twins… Don’t see that much… Might try to place them together… Well, anyway… Whatever happens, they’re not twins.”
I listened distractedly. Gregory said nothing. For months now, we’d been in no hurry. He could keep babbling for as long as he wanted, it wouldn’t change anything. For us, it was over.
Acknowledgements
If there’s any merit in this text, it’s thanks to Fabienne Claire Caland-Rouby, Melissa Dion-Robichaud, Catherine Larochelle, Mathieu Paradis, Anne Caumartin, Nathalie Spurway, and EL.
If I survived it, it’s thanks to Gaspard, Malik, Axel, Colin, and Flore, who don’t like stories with unhappy endings.
About Invisible Publishing
Invisible Publishing produces fine Canadian literature for those who enjoy such things. As an independent, not-for-profit publisher, our work includes building communities that sustain and encourage engaging, literary, and current writing.
Invisible Publishing has been in operation for over a decade. We released our first fiction titles in the spring of 2007, and our catalogue has come to include works of graphic fiction and non-fiction, pop culture biographies, experimental poetry, and prose.
We are committed to publishing diverse voices and experiences. In acknowledging historical and systemic barriers, and the limits of our existing catalogue, we strongly encourage writers from LGBTQ2SIA+ communities, Indigenous writers, and writers of colour to submit their work.
Invisible Publishing is also home to the Bibliophonic series of music books and the Throwback series of CanLit reissues.
If you’d like to know more, please get in touch: [email protected].
