Invisible String

14

“She said we were the parents,” I said, my voice shaking. “We paid her medical bills. We waited in that hospital. We’ve raised Mira like our own for three months—because she is.”

“I understand,” Linda said gently. “But the law sometimes doesn’t care how emotionally right things are. Right now, we need to prepare.”

“Prepare?” Travis echoed, his jaw tight.

“She’s petitioned for a hearing. It’ll go to family court. A judge will ultimately decide if she can revoke the adoption.”

I couldn’t breathe for a second. It felt like the floor had dropped out from under me. Travis reached out and squeezed my hand.

“What do we do?” I asked.

“We fight,” Linda said. “You have every record, every email, every proof of support. We’ll build a case around Mira’s best interests—her stability, her wellbeing. And that means court appearances. Soon.”

“Set the dates,” Travis said, voice cold but clear. “We’ll be there. We’ll do whatever it takes.”

“I’ll send the first hearing info tonight,” Linda confirmed. “And Taylor—Travis—stay calm. This isn’t over.”

I nodded even though I wasn’t sure how to stay calm. Mira stirred a little in my arms, and I kissed her soft head, breathing in the scent of baby lotion and something that was just her. My daughter.

“I’m not losing her,” I whispered, more to myself than anyone.

Travis looked at me and said it louder.

“We’re not losing her.”

I looked down at Mira sleeping in my arms, her little fingers curled into a fist on my chest. My voice cracked when I said it.

“What happened to Emma wanting the girls together? That’s why we said yes. That’s why we flew out there with one car seat and came back with two. She begged for that.”

Travis sat on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. “She hasn’t reached out about Lily once. Not a text. Not a call. Nothing.”

“She’s breaking them apart,” I whispered. “She’s trying to take Mira and doesn’t even want Lily. How do you separate sisters like that? How do you… just choose one?”

He didn’t answer right away. The silence between us buzzed with disbelief, confusion, and something sharp—anger, maybe. Pain. Both.

“I don’t get it,” I said. “She talked about how she regretted being apart from Lily. How she didn’t want to make the same mistake again. And now this?”

Travis’s jaw tightened. “She’s not thinking about them. She’s thinking about herself.”

I nodded slowly, tears burning behind my eyes. “We’ve been up every night. We’ve done everything—every appointment, every feeding, every second of bonding. And now we have to fight just to keep her?”

He leaned over and brushed his hand gently over Mira’s back. “She’s ours, Tay. We’re not giving her up. Not after everything.”

“She belongs with her sister,” I whispered. “We all belong together.”

“Then that’s what we’ll fight for.” His voice was steady, firm. “Not just Mira. Both girls. This family.”

I looked at him then, really looked at him—and even though my world felt like it was tilting, I believed him.

We were going to fight like hell.

Mira had finally drifted off to sleep in my arms, her little body warm against mine. I was trying so hard not to cry again—not because I didn’t want to feel it, but because I didn’t want her to feel it. She deserved peace. Not this tension swirling through our house.