Thursday was a whirlwind for the senses. Megan, Mia, Stephen, Alex and I drove downtown to visit the old Micah House, where all of the boys lived until around December. It is cramped, worn, in a rough neighborhood. It's the kind of dirty that can't really be cleaned—it comes off of the walls, in the cracks, from the sky. There was no hot water. And it was in such close quarters that tempers could escalate—there was no space to play, no space to be one-on-one with the boys.