The meeting was emotional. Emily was hesitant at first, but when Margaret gave her a box of Rebecca’s childhood keepsakes—hair ribbons, a diary—Emily finally connected with her past. Margaret signed the waiver of custody that afternoon, giving David and Emily her blessing.
Weeks turned into months. Emily thrived. The final court hearing was a formality, but a celebration. When the judge struck the gavel and declared her “Emily Miller,” Sophie cheered so loud the bailiff smiled.
The night before her first official day at St. Thomas, David found Emily organizing her new backpack for the tenth time.
“Nervous?” he asked.
“A little,” she admitted. “What if they remember me as the homeless girl?”
“They will know you as Emily Miller,” David said, hugging her. “My daughter.”
The next morning, David walked both girls to the gate. Emily looked at the school she had watched for so long through the bars. She took a deep breath, gripped Sophie’s hand, and walked through the open gates—no longer an observer, but a participant.
That night, Emily opened a fresh notebook. On the first page, in her careful, beautiful handwriting, she wrote: Property of Emily Miller.
She looked out the window at the stars. They were the same stars she had slept under in the cold, but now, they were just beautiful lights in the sky, watching over a girl who was finally, truly home.
