“Her name is Grace,” he said. “I need you to adopt her before I die.”
The request froze me.
I demanded to know who she was. David only asked me to trust him and said she had no one else.
“Is she your daughter?”
He closed his eyes as a tear slid down his cheek.
“Please don’t make me explain now. Bring her home first.”
I was angry and certain he was hiding a betrayal. Yet he was dying in front of me, and refusing his final request felt cruel. So I agreed.
Grace arrived during a rainstorm carrying one backpack. Our children welcomed her immediately, treating her like a sister before I understood why she was there.
