James took the phone, scanning the screen. He paused, studying the girl’s face.
Veronica’s voice broke with emotion. “This could be our chance. My chance.” She swallowed hard, her eyes locked on his. “What if she’s meant to be ours?”
James looked at her for a long moment, reading the depth of her hope. Finally, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
“If this is what you want,” he said softly, “then we’ll make it happen.”
Relief rushed through her. The ache she had carried for years softened, replaced by a fragile sense of hope.
She knew international adoption would be difficult, a bureaucratic labyrinth of rules and requirements—but James’s support made her feel brave enough to face it all.
They dove in headfirst.
And immediately, they found themselves drowning in paperwork.
Forms piled up—documents that demanded to know everything about their lives: income, medical history, psychological evaluations. Their privacy vanished beneath official stamps and background checks.
Veronica stayed up late night after night, navigating time zones, making urgent calls, responding to emails from unfamiliar agencies.
It was overwhelming, exhausting—but she didn’t give up.
Victor and Arthur were elated at the news. The idea of a little sister filled their imaginations with joy.