Emily and I had spent months preparing for this day, yet as we stood outside the orphanage, she fidgeted nervously with her wedding ring.
“Are you ready? My mom’s watching Sophia, so we have all day,” I said, trying to lighten the mood as I tied my shoes.
Emily let out a shaky breath. “I think so, David. I just… I hope we’re doing the right thing. What if the child doesn’t connect with us?”
I took her hands in mine, squeezing them gently. “We’ve talked about this for months. You’ve read every book. We’re as ready as we’ll ever be. Besides, no child could resist your pancakes.”
She let out a soft chuckle, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. “Thanks for that vote of confidence.”
Just then, my five-year-old daughter from my first marriage, Sophia, peeked her head out of the living room. “Can I have pancakes tomorrow, Mommy?”
Emily’s face softened. “Of course, sweetheart.”
I saw the flicker of sadness in Emily’s eyes. She adored Sophia and treated her as her own, but I knew deep down she longed for a child who would call her “Mommy” from the very beginning.
As we drove to the shelter, the air in the car was thick with anticipation. Emily stared out the window, her fingers twisting her ring.
“You okay?” I asked.
“I’m just scared,” she admitted. “What if we don’t find a child who feels like… ours?”
I reached over and squeezed her hand. “We will. It’s like you always say—love finds a way.”
When we arrived, the shelter director, Mrs. Graham, greeted us warmly. She was an older woman with silver hair and kind eyes. “Welcome. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Graham. We’re excited and… a little nervous,” Emily said, offering a small smile.
“That’s natural,” Mrs. Graham reassured her. “Why don’t we start with a chat in my office?”
Her office walls were lined with framed pictures of happy families who had adopted children from the shelter. We explained what we were looking for. “We’re open to any background,” I said. “We just want to feel a connection.”
Mrs. Graham nodded. “I understand. Let me show you the playroom. Sometimes, you just know when you meet the right child.”
The playroom was filled with laughter and energy. Children were playing, drawing, and building towers. Emily knelt beside a little boy stacking blocks. “Wow, that’s a tall tower! What’s your name?”
“Eli. Don’t knock it over!” he warned with a grin.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Emily said, laughing.
I found myself chatting with a girl at a chalkboard. “What are you drawing?”
“A unicorn,” she said confidently. “Are you a dad?”
“I am. Do you like dads?”
She shrugged. “They’re okay.”
Across the room, Emily caught my eye. Her expression mirrored mine—how could we possibly choose one child? Then, I felt a tiny tap on my shoulder.
I turned around to see a little girl standing there. She had big, curious eyes and a soft, confident voice. “Are you my new dad?”
My heart stopped. She looked just like Sophia—same honey-brown hair, same dimples when she smiled.
“Uh, I…” My voice caught in my throat.
She tilted her head, studying me like she already knew the answer. Then, she reached out her hand. That’s when I saw it—the small, crescent-shaped birthmark on her wrist. My heart raced. Sophia had the exact same birthmark in the exact same spot.
“Emily,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “Look at her wrist.”
Emily, who had been standing nearby, gripped the edge of a table for support. “David… she—she’s…”
The little girl smiled. “Do you like puzzles? I’m really good at them.”
I knelt down, struggling to stay upright as my mind spun. “What’s your name?”
“Angel,” she said proudly. “The lady here said it suits me.”
Angel. The name struck me like lightning. It was the name my ex-wife, Lisa, had once mentioned if we ever had another daughter.
Memories flooded back. Four years ago, Lisa had shown up at my house, nervous and fidgeting.
“David, I need to tell you something,” she had said, her voice trembling. “When we divorced, I was pregnant. I gave birth to a little girl… she’s yours. I—I couldn’t take care of her. Will you?”
That’s how Sophia came into my life. But twins? Lisa had never mentioned twins.
I pulled out my phone, my hands shaking as I dialed Lisa’s number.
“David?” Lisa answered after a few rings, her voice laced with surprise. “What’s going on?”
“Lisa, I’m at a children’s shelter. There’s a little girl here who looks exactly like Sophia. She has her birthmark, Lisa. She’s Sophia’s twin. Care to explain?”
Silence. Then, a deep breath. “David… I—I didn’t think you’d ever find out.”
“You knew?” My voice was barely controlled rage.
“Yes,” she admitted. “I had twins. I was broke. I couldn’t handle two babies. I gave Sophia to you because I knew she’d have a better life. I thought I’d come back for Angel when I was ready, but I never got stable enough. I thought you’d hate me if you found out.”
I clenched my jaw. “Lisa, I’m taking her home. Angel is my daughter, and she deserves to be with her family.”
Lisa hesitated. Then, in a broken whisper, she said, “Take care of her, David. She deserves the world.”
I ended the call, my mind spinning. I turned back to Emily, who was now kneeling beside Angel, helping her with a puzzle.
“She’s ours,” I said firmly.
Emily looked up, her eyes brimming with tears. “I already knew.”
Angel looked between us. “Does that mean you’re my new mom and dad?”
I crouched down, taking her tiny hand. “Yes, Angel. That’s exactly what it means.”
Emily pulled her into a hug, whispering, “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Angel giggled. “I knew it. I just knew.”
When we brought her home, Sophia was waiting at the door, clutching her favorite stuffed bear. Her eyes widened when she saw Angel.
“Daddy, who’s that?”
I knelt beside her. “Sophia, this is Angel. She’s your sister—your twin.”
Sophia’s jaw dropped. “Twin? We’re the same?” She ran forward, throwing her arms around Angel.
Angel laughed, hugging her back.
From that moment, they were inseparable.
Years later, as they danced in the living room, Emily leaned against me. “Do you ever think about how far we’ve come?”
“All the time,” I said, watching our daughters laugh together.
Love didn’t just find a way. It brought us home.
