“Your biological mother didn’t want you. But your dad—he wanted you more than anything. And when I met you, I knew you were mine, no matter what.”Samantha’s eyes filled with tears. “You adopted me?”“Yes,” I said,
“but I’ve always seen you as my daughter. You’re my blood, my heart, my dearest girl.” She clung to me, sobbing, “I thought you’d hate me.”“Never,” I whispered. “You belong. You always have.”In that moment, I knew: love isn’t about DNA. It’s about the family we choose. Samantha was chosen, and she was mine, always.