Defective Goods

The newborn in my arms twisted in agony, its mouth wide open in a scream, yet the room remained dead silent. I tried to plead with the elegant woman across the desk, but could only force out a wet, guttural "Ah... uh..." The woman simply smiled, checked her watch, and slid a card toward me. "Congratulations," she whispered, leaving me alone with the note: *Thank you for adopting.*