Chapter 9
Emily's seventh birthday was coming up.
She wanted a big party. With all her friends. A princess theme.
Sophia and I planned it together.
We decorated the house with pink and purple balloons. We ordered a castle-shaped cake. We hired a face painter and a magician.
The day of the party, the house was chaos. Happy chaos.
Kids ran everywhere. Screaming. Laughing. Playing games.
Emily was in her element. She wore a princess dress and a tiara. She was the center of attention, and she loved every minute of it.
I watched her, my heart full.
This was what childhood should be. Joy. Laughter. Friends. Love.
Not fear. Not pain. Not secrets.
After the party, when all the guests had left and the house was quiet, Emily came to me.
She was holding something. A drawing.
"Daddy," she said. "I made this for you."
I took the drawing.
It was our family.
Me. Sophia. Emily. And Max the dog.
We were all holding hands. Smiling.
Above us, she'd drawn an angel with wings.
"Who's that?" I asked, pointing to the angel.
"That's my other mommy," Emily said softly. "Lisa. I know she's watching us. And I think she's happy."
My throat tightened. I pulled Emily into a hug.
"I think she is too, baby," I said. "I think she's very happy."
That night, after Emily was asleep, Sophia and I sat on the porch.
We watched the stars.
"She's such an amazing kid," Sophia said.
"She is," I agreed.
Sophia took my hand. "James... I've been thinking. About adoption."
I looked at her.
"I love Emily like she's my own," Sophia said. "And I know she's had a bad experience with adoption before. But I want to do this the right way. Legally. Honestly. With her consent. If she wants it. If you want it."
I stared at her.
This woman. This incredible woman.
She wasn't trying to replace Lisa. She wasn't trying to take Emily away from me.
She just wanted to love her. Officially. Forever.
"I think that's a wonderful idea," I said. "But we have to ask Emily first. It has to be her choice."
Sophia nodded. "Of course."
We asked Emily the next day.
We sat her down at the kitchen table. We explained what adoption meant. That Sophia would be her legal mom. That it would be forever.
Emily thought about it for a minute.
Then she smiled.
"Does that mean you'll be my mommy forever?" she asked Sophia.
"Forever and ever," Sophia said.
Emily threw her arms around Sophia's neck.
"Yes!" she said. "Yes, yes, yes!"
The adoption process took six months.
We did everything the right way. Background checks. Home visits. Interviews.
The judge who handled our case was the same judge who'd sentenced Rachel.
He remembered us.
When he finalized the adoption, he smiled.
"After everything this family has been through," he said. "It's wonderful to see them get their happy ending. Mr. Anderson, Ms. Carter... Emily is very lucky to have you both."
"And we're lucky to have her," I said.
We left the courthouse as a family.
Legally. Officially. Forever.
Emily held both our hands as we walked to the car.
"I have two mommies now," she said happily. "One in heaven. And one right here."
Sophia squeezed her hand. "That's right, baby. And we both love you very much."
Life was perfect.
But there was one last thing I needed to do.
Something I'd been avoiding.
I needed to visit Lisa's grave.
I hadn't been there since everything happened. I'd been too ashamed. Too guilty.
I'd let a monster into our lives. I'd put our daughter in danger.
But Emily was safe now. She was happy. She was loved.
And I wanted Lisa to know.
I went alone on a Saturday morning.
I brought flowers. Her favorite—yellow roses.
I stood in front of her headstone. My hands were shaking.
"Hi, Lisa," I said softly.
I told her everything.
About Rachel. About the abuse. About the plan to sell Emily.
I told her about coming home that day. About saving our daughter.
I told her about the trial. About prison.
I told her about Sophia. About the adoption. About our new life.
"I'm sorry," I said. Tears streamed down my face. "I'm so sorry I let her in. I'm sorry I put Emily in danger. I failed you. I failed both of you."
I stood there for a long time, crying.
And then I thought about Emily.
Her smile. Her laugh. Her bravery.
She was okay. She was safe. She was loved.
And I knew Lisa would forgive me.
Because I'd fixed it. I'd saved our daughter.
"I love you, Lisa," I said. "And I promise I'll take care of her. Always."
I placed the flowers on the grave and turned to leave.
And for a moment, I swear I felt her.
A gentle breeze. A warm feeling.
Like she was there. Like she was saying, "I know. It's okay."
May you like
I walked back to the car.
And for the first time in years, I felt at peace.
