Elodie and I had dreamed of becoming parents for years. After many heartbreaking attempts, Elodie suggested we try adoption. It was a new beginning, filled with hope. Months later, we met Emilie—a lively, bright-eyed four-year-old girl who had spent most of her early years in foster care. From the moment we saw her, she called us “Mommy” and “Daddy,” even before the paperwork was signed.
The day Emilie moved in was one of the happiest in our lives.
But one evening, just a month after she’d become part of our family, I came home from work to find Emilie clutching my legs tightly, her small body trembling.
“I don’t want them to take me away,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
Kneeling down, I asked gently, “Who’s going to take you away, sweetheart?”
Her tear-streaked face looked up at me, filled with fear. “I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here… with you and Mommy.”
My heart ached. “No one’s going to take you away. You’re safe here,” I promised, brushing her hair softly.
At that moment, Elodie appeared in the hallway. She looked pale, distant.
“We need to talk,” she said quietly.
I sent Emilie to her room, holding her hand for a moment before she left with a hopeful nod.
As soon as the door shut, Elodie turned to me, her eyes unreadable.
“We have to give her back.”
My world stopped. “What? Elodie, no… Why?”
Her explanation hit me like a storm. There was something in Emilie’s past—something that made Elodie fearful for all of us.
I took a step back, realizing that the fight to keep Emilie was far from over.