Lucian Voss

I was still holding the paper in my hand long after the door closed behind me. I didn’t even realize it at first, but my fingers had tightened around it like I was afraid of letting it go.

It was a child’s drawing, done in crayon, the lines uneven and rough. There were three stick figures. One tall figure was labeled “Mr. Lucian.” The next was a woman with long hair, drawn with wide strokes and labeled “Mama.” Between them stood a small boy with messy curls and a wide smile. He had no label because I didn’t need one.

It was Roman.

He had drawn the three...