PART 1: The boy’s name was Kai Moreno, and he was ten years old when the truth finally found him.
Kai had no memory of parents, no photograph tucked into a pocket, no bedtime stories spoken in a familiar voice. His earliest memory was not of a face, but of cold water sloshing against plastic and the sound of rain pounding the concrete beneath an overpass on the outskirts of San Antonio. He had been barely two years old when an elderly homeless man named Walter Boone discovered him inside a cracked laundry tub lodged near a drainage canal after a violent storm had flooded the area.
