Page 15

Her adoption had never been finalized. I'd known that somewhere in the back of my mind for months, but there had been too much happening to really understand what it meant. We'd brought her home, and we'd loved her, and we'd been waiting for the finalization. Then Philip was arrested.

The joint adoption petition had immediately become a problem. Our household had changed overnight, and the adoption agency and the court had to be notified of the material change. Philip's criminal charges made it impossible to simply continue as though nothing had happened.

Because Felicity and the firm had handled Evan's and Matt's adoptions as well, she already knew the history of Laura's placement and exactly how Philip's involvement could complicate it. She moved quickly. Philip signed a waiver of his interest in the adoption, and the joint petition was amended so that I was the sole prospective adoptive parent. Laura’s mother wrote a letter to the court affirming she wished for the adoption to proceed with me as the sole parent. His criminal case was kept separate from Laura's adoption as much as possible, while the necessary documents were filed to make sure his actions did not derail hers.

Then we waited. Except we didn't really wait, as there were things happening while the gears turned slowly. The adoption social worker came back to the house. My parents provided financial information and statements confirming that they were helping support me and the children’s needs, which wasn’t much in terms of money, as I still had my job and my income was enough. Not great, but enough on its own. The home study was updated, and everything was documented carefully.

Laura was thriving and that mattered most. She was a happy baby who knew nothing about federal investigations, criminal charges, divorce, stolen money, or any of the other things that had turned our lives upside down. She knew who fed her, who held her, who got up with her in the night, and who sang to her when she was upset. She knew me, and I knew her, and she felt loved because she was.

Felicity explained that the final hearing could not ordinarily happen until the ninety-day point after placement. Ninety days. I'd spent the first part of those ninety days watching my marriage collapse, and now I was counting them for an entirely different reason.

By then, Philip had already been sentenced, and the divorce was final. My sole custody of Evan and Matt was in place, Philip's parental rights had been terminated, and he'd made his wishes clear to the court. He had no role left in Laura's adoption.

The unknown biological father had never established parental rights. The required registry search had found no claim, and the birth mother had again reaffirmed in writing that she had chosen me to raise her daughter. The final home investigation came back favorable, and the social worker confirmed that I was Laura's primary caregiver, that she was thriving, and that the home with my parents was safe and stable while I continued working from home as a paralegal for a real estate attorney. Everything that had once looked like a reason to take Laura away from me had become evidence of the opposite. The criminal husband was gone. The unstable household was gone. The marriage was gone. What remained was me, my two older children, my parents, and a baby girl who had never known another father.

On the morning of the hearing, I dressed Laura in a little outfit my mother had bought her. She was cheerful, kicking her feet while I fastened the buttons, and I smiled despite the knot in my stomach.

“You ready, baby girl?” I asked.

She gave me a gummy smile, and I laughed softly as I lifted her into my arms. “Yeah. Me too. Let's go make this official.”

The courtroom was smaller than I'd expected. There was no dramatic crowd, no reporters, and no television cameras, just me, Felicity, the judge, and the people necessary to finish what should have been finished two months earlier but had been delayed thanks to Phillip.

Felicity stood beside me as the judge reviewed the file, asking questions about my employment, my housing, my support system, and my relationship with Laura. I answered every one, then she asked about the changes in our household.

I took a breath before answering. “Her other prospective parent is no longer part of the household. He's been sentenced to prison, and our marriage has been dissolved. I'm her primary caregiver, and I have been since she came home. Nothing about what happened was Laura's fault, and I want her to have the stability she's always known.”

The judge looked down at the paperwork, then at Laura. She was staring back at her with complete seriousness, one tiny fist wrapped around the edge of my shirt. I almost smiled.

Felicity made the argument she'd been preparing for weeks. Denying the adoption now would not protect Laura; it would disrupt the life she already knew. The crimes committed by a man who was no longer in her home should not determine the future of a baby who had done nothing wrong. The birth mother had chosen me, the biological father's rights had been addressed, the home study was favorable, Laura was thriving, and I was prepared to be her father for the rest of my life.

The judge nodded slowly before looking at me. “Mr. Brooks, it is clear that you understand the responsibilities you're undertaking. You understand that adoption is permanent, and you are asking the court to make you this child's legal father?”

I looked down at Laura. Her tiny fist was still wrapped around my shirt, and I felt my throat tighten. “Yes, Your Honor. I understand. She's my daughter in every way that matters already, but I want the law to recognize what she and I already know. I am her father, and I'm asking the court to let me be her father for the rest of her life.”

The judge smiled gently. “Then I believe we can finish this today.”

For a second, I couldn't breathe. Then I watched as she signed the order. The words on the document were simple. The effect wasn't.

Laura was my daughter. Legally. Permanently. Completely. I looked down at her, and tears blurred my vision. “You're mine,” I whispered, pressing my cheek against the top of her head. She made a soft, happy sound and grabbed my finger, and I laughed through my tears.

For the first time in four months, something had gone right.

Not because I'd gotten something back. I hadn't. The house was gone. The money was gone. My marriage was gone. The life I'd thought I was going to have was gone. But Laura was here, and no one was going to come and take her away. Evan and Matt were here. And I was still here. Maybe that was enough to start with.

Outside the courthouse, the April sun was warm on my face. Spring had settled over the Panhandle while I'd been too busy surviving to notice it, and for the first time in months, I stopped long enough to actually feel the warmth.

I stood on the courthouse steps with Laura against my chest and looked out at the bright sky. Tomorrow, I'd start looking seriously for a house. A real house. One that belonged to us, with enough bedrooms for three children, a yard for Skye, and a kitchen where I could make coffee without remembering everything I'd lost. One in a different city, where no one had ever heard of us.

I didn't know what the next year would look like. I didn't know how long it would take to recover financially, how long it would take before hearing Philip's name didn't hurt, or whether I'd ever be able to trust another person the way I'd once trusted him. But I knew one thing. I had my children and our dog, and we were a family with a future.

And this time, I was going to build our life on something that was real.

6

DARREN

Four months later, Laura was about nine months old.