James scanned the post, noting the child’s gaunt face, her sad eyes framed by a mess of tangled hair. Veronica’s voice wavered, laden with emotion. “This could be our chance. My chance.” She paused, her gaze steady. “What if she’s meant to be ours?”
James studied her tearful expression, knowing how deeply her longing for a daughter had taken root. After a pause, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “If this is what you want, Veronica,” he said softly, “then we’ll make it happen.”