“Ready for this?” she asked, though her smile was warm and reassuring.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said.
“And how about you, Miss Debbie? Ready to talk to the judge?”
Debbie nodded enthusiastically. “I practiced with Daddy and Willie Wee. I know all my answers.”
Sarah’s eyes flicked to mine with a question I couldn’t quite read, but she just smiled. “Perfect. Let’s go make this official.”
The courtroom was smaller than I expected. Wood paneling covered everything, making the space feel formal but not intimidating. Judge Patricia Williams would sit behind her brass nameplate and monstrous bench. According to Sarah, she was a woman in her sixties with silver hair and kind eyes who’d built a reputation for being fair but thorough in family court matters.
We took our seats at the petitioner’s table, and I felt like I was about to jump out of my skin.
This was it.
The moment we’d been building toward since I first held a squirming little girl in my arms and fell in love.
“All rise,” the bailiff announced as Judge Williams entered.
The proceedings began with the usual formalities—case numbers and legal language that washed over me like background noise while my heart hammered against my ribs. Sarah handled most of the talking, presenting our case with the efficiency of someone who’d done this hundreds of times.
Then Judge Williams looked directly at me.
“Mr. Jamison, please rise and approach the bench.”
My legs felt unsteady as I stood and walked forward, acutely aware of Debbie’s eyes on me from her seat by Sarah.
“Mr. Jamison, you’ve been Deborah’s legal guardian for four years. Can you tell me why you’re seeking to formalize this relationship through adoption?”
The words I’d practiced vanished from my brain.
All I could think about was the truth—raw and simple and overwhelming.
“Because she’s my daughter, Your Honor. Not because of paperwork or legal guardianship, but because . . . because I can’t imagine my life without her. She’s the best part of every day, the reason I get up in the morning, the reason I want to be a better person. I want to adopt her because I want the world to know what’s already true—that we’re a family.”
Judge Williams nodded, her expression neutral but not unkind. “And Deborah, please approach the bench.”
Debbie practically bounced out of her seat, her serious shoes clicking against the marble floor as she made her way to the front of the courtroom. The bailiff brought over a small step stool so she could see over the witness stand, and she climbedup with the confidence of someone who’d never met a stage she couldn’t command.
“Good morning, Miss Deborah,” Judge Williams said, her tone warming considerably and a matronly smile crawling across her lips. “You look very nice today.”
“Thank you! Daddy helped me with my hair, but I picked out the dress because it has flowers and flowers are happy.”
The judge’s smile twitched, and I swear, her eyes sparkled with amusement. “They certainly are. Now, Miss Deborah, do you understand why we’re here today?”
“Yes, ma’am. We’re here so you can make me Daddy’s dragon princess forever and always.”
“Dragon princess?”
I cleared my throat and began to explain, but Judge Williams silenced me with a raised palm, her eyes never leaving Debbie’s.
“Well, his daughter to you adults.” Debbie’s brows knitted together, and she nodded seriously. “But dragon princesses are stronger than regular princesses because they can breathe fire and fly and protect their kingdoms from mean wizards.”
“I see.” Judge Williams was definitely biting back a grin now, though her nod was so grave I imagined her sentencing hardened criminals next. “And you want Mr. Jamison to be your daddy forever and always?”
She didn’t flinch. “He already is my daddy. He reads me stories and makes me pancakes and helps me with my dragon drawings. He takes care of me when I’m sick and hugs me when I’m scared and loves me even when I’m cranky in the morning and have bad hair.”
“And how do you feel about being adopted? It’s a big step. Once you do this, there’s no going back.”
