21 years after my parents abandoned me for “bringing bad luck,” they walked into my office begging for help — and what I said to them left them speechless

I was seven years old the night my stepfather, Tom Harris, drove me through a downpour to my grandparents’ house in Portland. The entire ride felt suspended in a strange, heavy silence. Only the windshield wipers dared to speak, dragging back and forth with a tired squeak. I kept my forehead against the cool glass, trying to see where we …