“That’s a lovely name.”
She held up his damaged ear.
“He’s broken.”
“I think he’s still handsome,” I replied.
For the first time, she smiled.
I later learned that five families had considered adopting her but withdrawn. Nobody explained why, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the little girl who seemed to expect everyone to leave.
Despite my age, I contacted the adoption agency.
The process involved medical checks, interviews, financial assessments, and home visits. I also arranged for my niece, Claire, to become Lily’s backup caregiver if anything happened to me.
After months of preparation, the adoption was finalized.
When Lily arrived at my house, she walked from room to room asking, “Mine?”
“Your bedroom, your toys, your books,” I told her.
Then she looked up.
“And I’ll never leave?”
My heart broke.
“You have a home here, sweetheart.”
Soon, our quiet house was filled with toys, cartoons, laughter, and bedtime stories. For the first time in years, I felt happy again.
