Emily and I had planned this day for months—we were going to the shelter to adopt. As she came down the stairs, nervous and unsure, I reminded her how ready we were. My daughter Sophia adored her, but I knew Emily longed for a child to call her “Mommy” from the start.

At the shelter, we met Mrs. Graham, who guided us through a room full of children. Emily connected instantly with a little boy, and I chatted with a girl drawing a unicorn. But nothing prepared me for what came next—a tiny hand tapped my shoulder. A little girl with honey-brown hair and familiar dimples asked, “Are you my new dad?”

She looked just like Sophia. Then I saw it—a crescent birthmark on her wrist, identical to Sophia’s. Her name? Angel. My ex-wife Lisa had once said that would be our next daughter’s name—before revealing she’d had a child after our divorce. But twins? She’d never told me.

One call to Lisa confirmed it—Angel was Sophia’s twin. She had given one up, keeping the secret out of shame.

Now, both girls are home. Their laughter fills our house, their bond unbreakable. Emily and I didn’t just adopt—we found a miracle. Love, truly, found a way.