They spoke for less than an hour. When Sophie stood to leave, Lucas thanked her for listening and said he would respect whatever happened next.
Outside, Sophie took Emma’s hand. “He isn’t my father just because we met,” she said.
“No,” Emma replied. “You decide what relationship, if any, you want.”
Sophie exchanged occasional letters with Lucas afterward. Their contact remained cautious and did not resemble a conventional father-daughter relationship. It was a connection built around truth rather than an attempt to recreate eighteen missing years.
Emma also began counseling for the first time. She had spent most of her life focusing on survival, education, work, and motherhood. She had never been given much room to recognize that the thirteen-year-old in the maternity ward had needed care too.
One afternoon, Sophie brought her a cup of hot tea while she sorted the final documents. The gesture reminded Emma of the nursing assistant who had visited her every evening after the birth.