She Wasn’t Born Mine, But Love Made Her My Daughter

Growing Up Side by Side

She’s thirteen now—on the edge of adolescence, navigating change, emotion, and uncertainty. Her biological father drifts in and out of her life, making promises he doesn’t keep, disappearing without explanation.

She rarely talks about it, but I see it in her eyes—the quiet ache, the questions she doesn’t ask, the disappointment she doesn’t voice.

One night, she sent me a simple text:
“Can you come get me?”

No details. No context. Just a need—for someone steady.

I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed my keys and went.

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