They’re sick,” Estella said softly. “It’s getting colder every day.”
“You don’t have to decide right now,” Thomas replied, though he secretly longed for an immediate yes. “Take some time to think.”
Estella shook her head. “No. If you’re really going to help us, it has to be now. Noah’s getting worse every day.”

The determination in the voice of a five-year-old shattered Thomas’s heart once again. She was taking on a responsibility that should never have been hers.
“Then… can I take you today?” he asked.
Estella nodded. “But we need to bring a few things. Mom’s things.”
“Of course. You can bring whatever you want.”

Thomas helped Estella pack their few precious belongings—some clothes, the toys he had given them, a few worn books that had belonged to Olivia, and most importantly, the sunflower paintings. Especially the largest one, the last Olivia had painted before she fell ill.
“This was her favorite,” Estella explained, running her hand along the simple frame. “She said she painted it while thinking of me.”

As they carefully wrapped the paintings, Thomas realized these simple objects carried enormous meaning. They weren’t just paintings—they were memories, connections to Olivia, fragments of love and warmth in a life of hardship.

He helped Lily put on a warmer coat while Estella packed a bag with Noah’s diapers and the only medicine they had—some aspirin and an almost empty bottle of cough syrup.

“Ready?” Thomas asked, looking around to make sure nothing important was left behind.
Estella nodded, but her eyes lingered on the apartment. Despite how rundown it was, it had been their home. The only place where she still felt Olivia’s presence.
“We can come back if we need anything,” Thomas assured her, reading her thoughts. “We’re not moving to the other side of the world.”
She nodded, taking Lily’s hand while Thomas lifted Noah into his arms.

Together, they stepped out of the apartment.
Thomas locked the door behind them, though he suspected they wouldn’t return.
In the car, he carefully strapped the children in—Noah in the new car seat he’d bought, Lily and Estella in the back, seatbelts fastened. The sunflower painting was wrapped in blankets in the trunk.

As he drove toward his apartment, Thomas glanced at the children in the rearview mirror.
Lily stared out the window, wide-eyed at the city lights flickering on at dusk. Noah had fallen asleep, breathing a little unevenly from his congestion. Estella sat alert as always, occasionally brushing Lily’s hair or checking that Noah was still comfortable.

Something inside Thomas was shifting with every mile.
It wasn’t just his life that was changing—it was his purpose.

For years, he had lived solely for himself—for his career, for his bank account. But now, three small humans depended on him. Trusted him.

When they arrived at the upscale building where he lived, the doorman looked shocked to see him with children.
In five years, Thomas Black had never once been seen with kids.
“Good evening, Mr. Black,” the doorman said, opening the car door. “Shall I help with your luggage?”
“Thank you, Robert. We’ve got a few things in the trunk—mostly paintings, so please handle with care.”

As the doorman retrieved their belongings, Thomas helped the children out of the car.
Noah stirred again, peeking around with curiosity.
Lily clung tightly to Estella’s hand, intimidated by the grand building.
“You live here?” Estella asked, craning her neck to look up at the towering structure.
“Yes. On the tenth floor. You’ll love the view.”

In the elevator, Lily squeezed Estella’s hand even tighter, unfamiliar with the sensation of ascending in silence.
Thomas held Noah close, watching the baby’s fascination with the glowing floor indicators.

When they reached the apartment, Thomas felt a wave of nerves and anticipation.
This was the first time he had brought someone to stay—not just anyone, but three children who needed warmth, safety, and permanence.
“Welcome to your new home,” he said, opening the door.

The apartment was spacious, filled with natural light from massive windows overlooking the city skyline.
Minimalist décor in soft neutrals adorned the place, accented with designer furniture and abstract art. It was a far cry from a child’s world—except for one room Thomas had carefully transformed.

Estella entered clutching the sunflower painting, her eyes scanning every detail.
Lily followed, still holding her sister’s hand, her eyes wide in awe at the vastness of the place.
Noah, in Thomas’s arms, pointed at the twinkling lights outside the window.

“I’ll show you where you’ll sleep,” Thomas said, leading them down the hallway.
When he opened the door to the newly furnished bedroom, he was rewarded with gasps of pure wonder.
Estella let out a soft “wow.”
Lily ran to touch the fluffy bedspread, and Noah babbled happily at the colorful lamps.

“This room is for us?” Estella asked, barely believing it.
“All yours,” Thomas confirmed. “I hope you like it.”

Lily had already climbed onto the bed, pressing her hands into the plush blanket.
“It’s so soft,” she whispered, her voice brighter than he’d ever heard it.

Estella placed the sunflower painting against the wall.
“Can we hang it here?”
“Of course,” Thomas replied. “First thing tomorrow. You can pick the perfect spot.”

That night, Thomas lay awake in his bed. The clock read 3:17 a.m.
Sleep was impossible.

His apartment—once a sanctuary—now felt hollow and meaningless.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Estella, Lily, and Noah in that crumbling, cold apartment.
He got up and walked to the window.

The city lights glimmered beneath the night sky.
Somewhere out there, children still slept on a worn mattress on a freezing floor, while he had three empty bedrooms.

Memories of Olivia flooded back.
What if she had stayed? Chosen love over ambition?
Estella would’ve been born into a stable home, with two parents present.
Maybe Lily and Noah would’ve been his too—a complete family instead of three abandoned children.

But he couldn’t change the past. He could only fix the present.

Thomas grabbed his phone. Despite the hour, he texted Marcus:
“Need to talk about the kids. Urgent. Tomorrow 8AM. My office.”

To his surprise, Marcus replied almost instantly.
“I’ll be there.”

Thomas spent the rest of the night making notes, sketching out plans, calculating every possibility.
By dawn, he had made his decision.

Marcus arrived promptly at 8 a.m., carrying a folder full of documents and wearing a worried expression.
“You look like you haven’t slept,” the lawyer noted as he accepted the coffee Thomas handed him.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about the kids,” Thomas admitted.

“The DNA test confirmed what we suspected,” Marcus said, opening the folder. “Estella is your biological daughter. There’s no margin for error.”
Thomas nodded. Deep down, he’d known it the moment he looked into her eyes.

“What about Lily and Noah?” he asked.
“So far, no relatives have come forward to claim them,” Marcus replied. “Olivia’s sister is the only lead, but according to Estella, they lost contact years ago. We’re trying to locate her, but no luck yet.”

Thomas took a deep breath.
“Marcus, I can’t let those kids stay in that place. The apartment is falling apart—leaks, mold, faulty wiring. It’s a constant danger.”
“What’s your plan?”

“I want all three of them to move in with me.”

Marcus adjusted his glasses, studying Thomas with a mix of curiosity and surprise. In five years of working together, he’d never seen Thomas this determined about anything outside business.
“Legally, you have every right to take Estella, since you’re her biological father,” Marcus explained. “Lily and Noah are more complicated, but given their living conditions, we can request temporary custody while we work on a permanent solution.”

“And what are our chances of getting that temporary custody?”
“Pretty good,” Marcus replied. “If we can prove they’re in danger, a single visit from a social worker to that apartment would likely be enough.”

Thomas shook his head.
“I don’t want to involve social services just yet. They might separate the kids and place them in different foster homes. That would destroy Estella—she can’t be apart from her siblings.”

“Then what’s your plan?”
“I’ll ask them directly. If they say yes, and come home with me willingly, we can show the judge the facts: I’m Estella’s father, I have the resources to care for all three, and keeping them together is what’s best for their emotional well-being.”

Marcus considered this.
“It’s risky… but it could work. Judge Wilson tends to prioritize the children’s best interests over legal technicalities.”

After the meeting, Thomas launched into action.
His first stop was a children’s furniture store. He bought three beds, colorful wardrobes, bookshelves, animal-shaped lamps, and soft rugs for the kids’ new bedroom.

“Your kids are going to love this,” the saleswoman said as she rang up the items.
“I hope so,” Thomas replied, feeling a strange mix of anxiety and hope at the sound of the word kids.

Next, he shopped for clothes and educational toys, picture books, art supplies and some slightly advanced books for Estella, dolls and simple games for Lily, sensory toys suitable for Noah’s age.

His final stop was the supermarket, where he stocked up on healthy food, kids’ snacks, natural juices, hygiene products, basic medicine, and vitamins.

When he got home, the furniture delivery was already underway.
Thomas supervised the setup personally, directing the team where to place everything. He wanted it all to be perfect.

But as he arranged the new room, doubt crept in.
What did he know about being a father? He had never cared for children. He knew nothing about bedtime routines, emotional needs, or discipline.

What would Olivia think of him now—trying to fill a role he had never been prepared for?
Then he thought of Estella, managing everything at five years old with no resources.

If she could do it, surely he could learn.
He wasn’t perfect—but he was infinitely better than leaving them in that crumbling apartment.

By the time he finished, it was after 3 p.m.
Thomas stepped back to admire his work. The once-empty room was now warm, vibrant, and child-friendly. Hopefully, it would soon be Estella, Lily, and Noah’s new home.

He took a quick shower and headed to the building where they lived, heart pounding with nerves about telling them.
What if Estella refused? What if she chose to stay in the only place she’d ever known, despite the hardships?

He would have to respect her choice.

As he pulled up near the building, he saw Estella sitting on the front steps, drawing in the notebook he had given her. When she saw him, her eyes lit up.

That pure joy was worth more than any business deal he had ever made.
“Thomas!” she exclaimed, running up to him. “You came earlier today!”

“I have something important to talk to you about,” he said, smiling.

“Are they all okay?” she asked, concern clouding her young face.
“Noah didn’t wake up coughing,” she added.

That expression—far too serious for someone her age—made Thomas’s stomach twist.
“And Lily didn’t want to eat breakfast.”

Exactly why he needed to act fast.

They walked together inside.
Thomas found Lily lying on the mattress, paler than usual.
Noah sat beside her, not playing with the toy cars Thomas had given them, occasionally coughing.

“Hey, little ones,” Thomas said, kneeling beside the mattress. “How are you feeling today?”
Lily shrugged, but Noah smiled and waddled toward him with his baby babble.
“Papa,”—a word that still sent a jolt through Thomas’s heart.

He picked him up and felt his forehead. The baby had a slight fever.

“Estella,” Thomas said after checking on them, “can we talk for a minute?”

Here is the full English translation of your passage:

“Can we talk for a minute?” she nodded and followed him into the small kitchen.

“This place isn’t good for you,” Thomas began bluntly. “Mold on the walls, dampness, cold nights. Noah’s getting sicker every day, and Lily doesn’t look well either.”

Estella lowered her gaze as if it were her fault.
“I know it’s not good, but it’s all we have. Mom used to say, ‘At least we’re together.’”

“And what if I told you there’s another option? A place where the three of you could stay together—but under much better conditions?”

She looked up, torn between suspicion and hope.
“What place?”

“My apartment,” Thomas replied. “There’s more than enough space. You’d have warm beds, healthy food, new clothes… and most importantly, the three of you would stay together.”

Estella frowned, trying to process everything.
“But why would you do that? Why are you helping us so much?”

Thomas hesitated.
“Because I care. Because no child should live like this. And because I knew your mother… and I know she would want you to be okay.”

Estella looked at her siblings. Lily let out a dry cough that echoed in the small room.
“They’re sick,” she said softly. “It’s getting colder every day.”

“You don’t have to decide now,” Thomas said, though he was hoping for an immediate yes. “Take some time to think.”

Estella shook her head.
“No. If you’re really going to help us, it has to be now. Noah’s getting worse every day.”

The resolve in the voice of a five-year-old shattered Thomas’s heart once again. She was once again taking on responsibilities no child should have to bear.

“So… can I take you today?”

Estella nodded.
“But we need to bring some things. Mom’s things, especially.”

“Of course. You can bring whatever you want.”

Thomas helped Estella pack her few important belongings—some clothes, the toys he had brought, a few worn-out books that had belonged to Olivia, and most importantly, the sunflower paintings, especially the large one Olivia had painted before she got sick.

“This was her favorite,” Estella explained, running her hand along the simple frame.
“She said she painted it thinking of me.”

As they carefully wrapped the paintings, Thomas realized how meaningful these simple objects were. They weren’t just paintings, but memories—connections to Olivia, reminders of a time when these children were loved by their mother.

He helped Lily into a warmer coat while Estella packed a bag with Noah’s diapers and all the medicine they had—just a few aspirin tablets and an almost-empty bottle of cough syrup.

“Ready?” Thomas asked, scanning the room to make sure nothing important had been forgotten.

Estella nodded, but her eyes swept over the apartment one last time.
As run-down as it was, it had been their home—the only place where Olivia’s presence still lingered.

“We can come back if we need anything,” Thomas reassured her, guessing her thoughts.
“We’re not moving to the other side of the world.”

The girl nodded, taking Lily’s hand while Thomas carried Noah. Together, they left the apartment.

Thomas locked the door behind them, though he suspected they wouldn’t return.

In the car, he carefully buckled the children in—Noah in the new car seat he had just bought, Lily and Estella in the back with seat belts fastened. The sunflower painting lay wrapped in blankets in the trunk.

As he drove toward his apartment, Thomas watched the children in the rearview mirror.

Lily stared out the window, fascinated by the city lights beginning to sparkle at dusk.
Noah had fallen asleep, his breathing shallow from congestion.
Estella kept watch, as always, occasionally stroking Lily’s hair or checking that Noah was comfortable.

Something inside Thomas shifted with every passing mile.
It wasn’t just his life that was changing—it was his purpose, his very essence.
For years, he had lived for himself—his career, his bank account.
Now, suddenly, three small lives depended on him. Trusted him.

When they arrived at the luxury building where Thomas lived, the doorman was stunned to see him with children.
In five years, Thomas Black had never once been seen with kids.

“Good evening, Mr. Black,” the doorman greeted, opening the car door. “Can I help you with your luggage?”

“Thanks, Robert. There are a few things in the trunk—mainly paintings that need careful handling.”

While the doorman collected the belongings, Thomas helped the children out of the car.
Noah didn’t wake but looked around curiously.
Lily clung to Estella’s hand, visibly intimidated by the building’s grandeur.

“You live here?” Estella asked, gazing upward as if trying to see the top of the building.

“Yes. On the tenth floor. You’ll like the view.”

In the elevator, Lily gripped Estella’s hand tighter, unused to the sensation.
Thomas held Noah in his arms, noticing how the boy stared in fascination at the elevator’s glowing floor numbers.

When he opened the apartment door, a wave of nerves and anticipation washed over him.
It was the first time he’d brought someone home to stay—and not just anyone, but three children in need of stability and safety.

“Welcome to your new home,” he said, guiding them inside.

The apartment was spacious, with large windows offering a panoramic view of the city.
The décor was minimalist in neutral tones, adorned with designer furniture and contemporary art.
It wasn’t exactly child-friendly—except for the room Thomas had just finished preparing.

Estella stepped inside, hugging the sunflower painting, her eyes scanning every detail.
Lily followed closely, clutching her sister’s hand, her eyes wide at the scale of the place.
Noah, in Thomas’s arms, pointed at the city lights through the windows.

“I’ll show you where you’ll sleep,” Thomas said, leading them down the hallway.

When he opened the door to the bedroom he had set up, he was rewarded with pure astonishment on their faces.

Estella gasped softly.
Lily ran to touch the soft comforter, and Noah babbled excitedly at the colorful lamps.

“This room is for us?” Estella asked, incredulous.
“All yours,” Thomas confirmed. “I hope you like it.”

Lily had already climbed onto the bed, pressing her hands into the fluffy duvet.
“It’s so soft,” she murmured, her voice more animated than Thomas had ever heard.

Estella placed the sunflower painting against the wall.
“Can we hang it here?”

“Of course. First thing tomorrow morning. We can put it wherever you want.”

Later, Thomas closed his eyes, even though deep down he knew that hearing the official confirmation was different.

Waves of emotion—joy, guilt, regret, hope—rushed over him all at once.

“Thomas, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he finally managed to say. “Thanks, Marcus. It means a lot to me.”

“I’ll start preparing the paperwork for legal custody. Since you’re her biological father, it’ll be straightforward.”

“And Lily and Noah?”

“I’m still searching for any relatives.”

“Keep looking. And Marcus—thank you.”

He hung up and sat still for a few minutes, trying to process what he had just heard.

Estella was his daughter.
His daughter, who had grown up five years without his support or affection—without even knowing who he was.

He looked at a photo on his desk of the three children, one he had taken a few days earlier while they played in the living room.
Estella drawing, Lily arranging her dolls, Noah stacking colorful blocks—normal, happy children in simple moments that he once would’ve overlooked.

Thomas decided to leave work early.
He needed to tell Estella the truth. She had a right to know.

When he got home, everything was calm.
Clare, the nanny he had hired to help while he worked, was in the kitchen preparing a snack.
The kids were playing in the living room, just like in the photo on his desk.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Black,” Clare greeted. “You’re home early?”

“Yeah, something important came up.”
He looked at the kids.
“How are they?”

“They’re great. Estella’s getting more comfortable every day. Lily spent the morning drawing pictures for you, and Noah took a few steps on his own today.”

Thomas smiled, proud of their small milestones.
“You can head out, Clare. I’ll take it from here.”

When the nanny left, Thomas approached the kids.
Lily ran to him and showed him a colorful drawing.

“Look! I drew a flower like Mommy’s sunflowers!”

“It’s beautiful, Lily. It really looks like it.”

Noah, noticing him, crawled quickly over, babbling “Papa.”
That newly learned word still filled Thomas’s heart with joy.

Estella stood silently, smiling faintly, her eyes so much like his—shining with contentment.

“Estella,” Thomas said, picking Noah up.
“Can we talk for a moment? Just the two of us.”

The girl nodded immediately, alert even after weeks of living with him.
Thomas noticed how she still tensed up whenever something felt serious—always ready to take on more than any five-year-old should have to.

“Lily, why don’t you finish your drawings while I talk to your sister? I want to see them all soon!”

The little girl nodded happily and returned to her colorful creations.

Thomas placed Noah near his favorite blocks and led Estella out to the balcony—a quiet place where they often watched the city together at sunset.

“Did something happen?” Estella asked, concern in her small voice.

“Nothing bad,” Thomas quickly assured her. “Actually, it’s something important—about me, about us.”

They sat in the balcony’s cozy chairs. Thomas tried to organize his thoughts, searching for the right words.

“Estella, do you remember when we met—when you were selling your mother’s sunflower painting?”

She nodded.
“You paid a lot of money for it.”

“Do you know why I was so interested in that painting from the very beginning?”

“Because you knew my mom.”

“Exactly. But I didn’t tell you everything that day.” Thomas took a deep breath.
“I didn’t just know Olivia—we were in love a long time ago.”

Estella’s eyes widened.
“You were Mommy’s boyfriend?”

“Yes, before you were born.”

“Then why did I never see you? Why didn’t Mommy ever talk about you?”

Thomas felt the weight of guilt press against his chest.
“Because I left, Estella. I left your mom when she needed me most. When she was pregnant.”

Understanding slowly spread across the little girl’s face.
“Pregnant… with me?”

Thomas nodded, tears threatening to fall.
“Estella… I’m your father. Your real father.”

The silence that followed felt eternal. Estella looked down at the floor, then at her hands, and finally back at Thomas. Her eyes locked onto his, as if trying to find the truth in them.

“Mom said…” she began hesitantly, “that my dad had to go because he had important things to do.” She paused. “She said he was a good man, just not ready to be a dad.”

Olivia’s words—so generous even after all that had happened—struck Thomas deeply.

He could have told Estella the harsh truth—that he abandoned them out of ambition, choosing success over family—but Olivia had protected the image of a father for her child.

“Your mom was incredible,” Thomas said, his voice thick with emotion. “And she was right. I wasn’t ready. I was selfish… and a coward. But now, Estella, I want to be here. I want to be your dad—if you’ll let me.”

Estella stayed silent, processing everything. Her eyes reflected a storm of emotions no five-year-old should ever have to face.

“So… you’re really my dad?” she asked at last.

“Yes. And I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for the last five years. I’m sorry you and your mom had to go through everything alone.”

To his surprise, Estella reached out and gently touched his hand.

“Mom said we shouldn’t stay stuck in the past. We should look forward, like sunflowers turn toward the sun.”

Thomas smiled through his tears. Even in her absence, Olivia was still guiding her daughter—and, in a way, guiding him too.

“What about Lily and Noah?” Estella asked, her first concern always for her siblings.
“Are you their dad too?”

“Not by blood,” he answered, “but that doesn’t matter to me. The three of you are a team—a family. That’s how it’s going to be.”

Thomas closed his eyes. Even though deep down he had known, hearing it confirmed changed everything.

Waves of emotion—joy, guilt, regret, hope—washed over him all at once.

“Thomas, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he finally managed to say. “Thank you, Marcus. This means everything to me.”

“I’ll prepare the paperwork for her legal custody. Since you’re her biological father, it will be simple. As for Lily and Noah, I’m still looking for any living relatives.”

“Keep looking. And Marcus—thank you.” He hung up and sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to process everything he had just heard.

Estella was his daughter. His daughter, who had grown up five years without his support or love—without even knowing who he was.

He looked at a photo on his desk, one he had taken just days ago. The three children playing in the living room: Estella drawing, Lily fixing her dolls, Noah stacking colorful blocks. Just normal, happy kids enjoying simple moments—moments he once would have considered insignificant.

Thomas decided to leave work early. He had to tell Estella the truth. She deserved to know.

When he arrived home, everything was calm.
Clare, the nanny he had hired to help while he worked, was in the kitchen preparing snacks.
The children played in the living room, just like in the photo on his desk.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Black,” Clare greeted. “You’re home early?”

“Yes, something important came up.”

He looked at the kids.
“How are they?”

“They’re great. Estella’s getting more comfortable every day. Lily spent the morning drawing pictures for you. And Noah—he took a few steps on his own today.”

Thomas smiled, proud of their small victories.
“You can head out, Clare. I’ll take over.”

Once the nanny left, Thomas approached the kids. Lily ran to him, holding up a colorful drawing.

“Look! I drew a flower just like Mommy’s sunflowers!”

“It’s beautiful, Lily. It looks just like it.”

Noticing his presence, Noah crawled over quickly, babbling, “Papa.”
That newly learned word still filled Thomas’s heart with joy.

Estella watched silently, smiling faintly. Her eyes, so much like his, sparkled with contentment.

“Estella,” Thomas said, picking Noah up, “can we talk for a bit? Just the two of us.”

The girl nodded immediately, still alert even after weeks of living with him.

Thomas noticed how she still tensed up whenever something seemed serious—always ready to shoulder more than any five-year-old should.

“Lily, why don’t you finish your drawings while I talk with your sister? I want to see them all soon.”

The little girl nodded happily and returned to her colorful creations.

Thomas placed Noah near his favorite blocks and led Estella out to the balcony—a peaceful spot where they had often sat together to watch the sunset over the city.

“Did something happen?” Estella asked again, the same concern in her soft voice.

“Nothing bad,” Thomas reassured her quickly. “Actually, it’s something important. About me… about us.”

They sat in the balcony chairs, and Thomas once again gathered his thoughts.

“Estella, do you remember when we first met—when you were selling your mom’s sunflower painting?”

She nodded.
“You paid a lot of money for it, right?”

“Do you know why I was so drawn to that painting right away?”

“Because you knew my mom.”

“Exactly. But I didn’t tell you everything that day.”

Thomas took a deep breath.
“I didn’t just know Olivia. We were in love, a long time ago.”

Estella’s eyes widened.

“You were Mommy’s boyfriend?”

“Yes. Before you were born.”

“Then… why did I never see you? Why didn’t Mommy ever talk about you?”

Thomas felt his chest tighten with guilt.

“Because I left, Estella. I left your mom when she needed me the most… when she was pregnant.”

The realization slowly formed on Estella’s face.

“Pregnant… with me?”

Thomas nodded, tears threatening to fall.
“Estella, I’m your father. Your real father.”

The silence that followed seemed to last forever. Estella looked down at the floor, then at her hands, and finally back at Thomas. Her eyes locked onto his, as if searching for the truth in them.

“Mama,” she said hesitantly, “told me my dad had to leave because he had important things to do. She said he was a good man, but not ready to be a father.”

Olivia’s words—so generous despite everything—deeply moved Thomas.
He could have told Estella the harsh truth: that he had abandoned them out of ambition, choosing success over family. But Olivia had preserved the image of a father for her child.

“Your mom was amazing,” said Thomas, his voice thick with emotion. “And she was right. I wasn’t ready. I was selfish and cowardly. But now, Estella… I want to be here. I want to be your father—if you’ll let me.”

Estella remained silent, processing the information. Her eyes reflected a storm of emotions no five-year-old should face alone.

“So… are you really my dad?” she asked at last.

“Yes. And I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for these past five years. I’m so sorry you and your mom had to go through everything alone.”

To his surprise, Estella reached out and gently touched his hand.

“Mama said we shouldn’t get stuck in the past. We should look forward—like sunflowers turning toward the sun.”

Thomas smiled through his tears. Even in her absence, Olivia was still guiding her daughter… and in some way, guiding him too.

“What about Lily and Noah?” Estella asked, always more worried about her siblings than herself.

“I’m their dad too,” he replied. “Not by blood, but that doesn’t matter to me. The three of you are a team. A family. That’s how it’s going to be.”

Her face changed instantly—relief and hope replacing the constant fear of being separated.

Back in the living room, they found Lily drawing and Noah stacking blocks. Thomas knelt down on the floor beside them, Estella at his side.

“Lily, Noah,” he said gently, “I have news. I’m Estella’s father. That means the three of you will stay here with me—all together.”

Lily looked up at him with wide blue eyes.
“You’re Estella’s daddy?”

“Yes, I am.”

The little girl considered it in her simple way.
“What about me and Noah?”

Thomas smiled, moved by her innocence.
“If you want, I can be your daddy too—from the heart.”

Lily didn’t hesitate. She threw her arms around Thomas as tightly as she could.
“I want that. I want you to be my daddy.”

Noah, sensing Lily’s excitement, toddled over and lifted his arms, wanting to be held.
“Daddy,” he said again, this time with more confidence.

Thomas embraced them, overwhelmed by a joy he had never known. He looked at Estella, who watched with a genuine smile—perhaps her first carefree one since they met.

“Come on,” he said, opening one arm. “Family hug.”

Estella joined in, finding her place in this new arrangement that, despite its strange beginnings, was finally starting to feel like a real home.

Later that day, after putting the children to bed, Thomas received another call from Marcus.

“I’ve got good news and bad news,” the lawyer began.
“The good news is, the paperwork to formalize Estella’s custody is nearly complete. If no relatives come forward for Lily and Noah in the next few months, you can begin the adoption process.”

“And the bad news?”

“We’ve found a lead on Olivia’s sister. She lives in another city, but we haven’t been able to reach her yet. If she shows up, she’ll have legal priority over Lily and Noah.”

Thomas felt a knot form in his stomach.
“Exactly. But don’t worry yet. She may not even know the children exist, or she may not want to take on the responsibility.”

Thomas thanked him for the update and hung up. A new fear gripped him.

He walked quietly to the children’s room, opening the door just a crack so he wouldn’t wake them.

There they were—Estella, Lily, and Noah—sleeping peacefully, believing they were safe, that they finally had a stable home.

The idea that someone might come and tear this new family apart was unbearable.

Closing the door softly, Thomas returned to the living room, more determined than ever to do whatever it took to keep all three children under his care and protection.

What he didn’t know was that hundreds of miles away, a woman had just received a letter informing her of Olivia Carter’s death—and of three children now under the care of a stranger.

Sunlight streamed lazily through the window of a small apartment in Riverside, a city several states away. Diana Carter gathered the accumulated mail from her P.O. box.

She had just returned from a three-month work trip—one of the many reasons she kept little contact with anyone, including her only sister, Olivia.

Among the bills, advertisements, and a magazine subscription she had forgotten to cancel, Diana found an official letter with a government seal.

She frowned as she opened it and settled into her couch.

Her eyes scanned the first lines, and her hands began to tremble.

“Dear Ms. Diana Carter,
We regret to inform you of the passing of Olivia Carter, which occurred approximately four months ago.”

Diana dropped the letter, feeling as though she had been struck.

Olivia had died four months ago… and she was only finding out now.

With trembling fingers, she forced herself to keep reading.

The letter mentioned three minors who had initially been left alone in the apartment they shared but were now under the temporary care of a man named Thomas Black, who claimed to be the biological father of one of the children.

“Three children,” Diana whispered in her empty apartment. “Olivia had three children.”

The last time the sisters had spoken was nearly six years ago—a bitter argument about life choices. About how Diana always put work first. About how Olivia was wasting her artistic talent.

They had exchanged harsh words and then clung to years of silence.

Diana knew Olivia had a daughter—Estella. She had received a birth announcement five years ago. But she never responded, too hurt, too busy, thinking things would eventually mend themselves.

But time had passed. Silence had consumed them. And now it was too late.

The letter stated that as Olivia’s closest living relative, Diana had the right to request information about the children’s welfare—especially Lily and Noah, whose connection to Mr. Black was not confirmed.

Guilt surged inside Diana.

She hadn’t just missed the last years of her sister’s life. She didn’t even know her own nieces and nephew. She hadn’t known Olivia was sick. She hadn’t been there to help—or to say goodbye.

She picked up the phone and dialed the number listed in the letter.

“Loenstein & Associates, good morning.”

“I’d like to speak with Marcus Loenstein, please.
It’s about the Carter children.
I’m Diana Carter—Olivia’s sister.”

A brief pause, and then, “One moment. I’ll transfer you.”

As Diana waited, her gaze landed on an old photo on the shelf—she and Olivia as teenagers, smiling, arms wrapped around each other. How had they grown so distant?

“Ms. Carter, this is Marcus Lenstein. We’ve been trying to reach you for some time.”

“I just returned from a work trip,” said Diana.
“I found your letter about my sister… and about nieces and nephews I didn’t know existed.”

“I understand this is a delicate situation. What would you like to know?”

“Everything. How did Olivia die? Who are these children? How did they end up with this Thomas Black?”

Marcus explained Olivia’s illness—likely worsened by a lack of proper treatment due to financial hardship. He told her how the children had been left alone in a rundown apartment, how Thomas had met Estella by chance, the DNA test that proved paternity, and the current custody situation.

“And who is this Thomas? Why is he caring for Lily and Noah if only Estella is his?”

Estella had once furrowed her brow trying to understand the same thing.

“But why would you do this?” she had asked Thomas. “Why are you helping us so much?”

Thomas had hesitated.
“Because I care about you. Because no child should live like that. And because I knew your mother—and I know she’d want you to be okay.”

Estella had looked at her siblings. Lily coughed, a dry sound echoing in the tiny room.

“They’re sick,” she had whispered. “It gets colder every day.”

“You don’t have to decide now,” Thomas had said, though he was silently hoping for a yes.

“No,” Estella had replied firmly. “If you’re really going to help us, it has to be now. Noah’s getting worse every day.”

The determination in the voice of a 5-year-old had once again broken Thomas’s heart.

“Then… can I take you today?”

Estella had nodded.
“But we need to bring some things. Mom’s things.”

“Of course. Bring whatever you want.”

Thomas had helped Estella pack the few important belongings—clothes, toys, some old books that had belonged to Olivia, and most importantly, the sunflower paintings. Estella had run her hand over the largest frame.

“This was her favorite,” she said. “She painted it thinking of me.”

As they wrapped the paintings carefully, Thomas realized how much they meant—memories of Olivia, reminders of a mother’s love.

He had helped Lily into a warmer coat while Estella packed Noah’s diapers and their sparse medications—just a few aspirins and nearly-empty cough syrup.

“Ready?” Thomas had asked, scanning the apartment to ensure nothing important was left behind.

Estella had taken one last look around. Despite the deterioration, this had been their home—the only place where she still felt Olivia’s presence.

“We can come back if you forget something,” Thomas had assured her. “We’re not moving to the other side of the world.”

She had nodded, taken Lily’s hand, and Thomas had carried Noah as they left. He locked the door behind him, though he suspected they wouldn’t return.

In the car, he had carefully buckled the kids into their seats and placed the wrapped painting in the trunk. As he drove, he watched them through the rearview mirror—Lily gazing at the sunset lights, Noah dozing with shallow breaths, Estella gently stroking Lily’s hair.

With every mile, his sense of purpose had shifted. These three now depended on him.

At his building, the doorman had stopped, surprised.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Black.”

“Thank you, Robert. We’ve got some things in the trunk—mostly paintings, they need to be handled carefully.”

The doorman had retrieved the packages while Thomas helped the children inside. Lily clung to Estella’s hand, wide-eyed as she took in the grand lobby.

Noah, in Thomas’s arms, looked around curiously.

“Is this where you live?” Estella had asked, staring up at the high ceilings.

“Yes. On the tenth floor. You’ll love the view.”

In the elevator, Lily had clung tightly to Estella while Noah watched the floor numbers light up.

Opening the door to his apartment, Thomas had felt a wave of nervous excitement.

“Welcome to your new home,” he said, leading them in.

The space was bright and minimalist, with floor-to-ceiling windows. Only the children’s room had a playful touch.

Estella had walked in holding the sunflower painting, her eyes wide.
Lily had rushed to the plush bedspread, pressing her hands into its softness. Noah babbled excitedly at the colorful lamps.

“This room is for you,” Thomas had said with a smile. “All yours.”

“Can we hang this here?” Estella asked, pointing to the wall.

“Of course. Tomorrow we’ll put it wherever you want.”

Thomas had let the kids explore. Lily opened drawers to find clean clothes. Noah crawled toward a basket of toys. Estella took in every detail like it was a dream.

“How about we check out the rest of the place?” Thomas had suggested. “Then we can make dinner. You must be hungry.”

He showed them the kitchen—utensils, a fridge full of food, cabinets stocked with snacks—then the living room with a massive TV. The children stared, amazed.

He led them to his home office, then the spacious bathroom.

“This is where you can take a bath,” he said, pointing to the deep tub.

“Hot water,” Lily said with wonder.

“Yes—nice and warm.”

Back in the kitchen, Thomas had cooked pasta with homemade tomato sauce, a colorful salad, and yogurt with fruit for dessert.

Eager to help, Estella had prepared the salad while Lily watched from the table and Noah banged happily on his high chair tray.

“Did you used to have dinner with your mom?” Thomas asked gently.

“When she didn’t work at night, yes. She said dinner was special time.”

“It is. We’ll eat together every day here.”

During dinner, Thomas had noted their table manners—Estella polite, Lily savoring every bite, Noah delighting in each spoonful.

Afterward, he suggested a warm bath. Lily giggled nervously as bubbles clung to her chin. Noah splashed joyfully, forcing Thomas to change shirts. Estella bathed quietly by herself while Thomas waited outside, ready to help.

Dressed in new pajamas, the children looked more relaxed. Thomas tucked them into their big beds and told them a story. All three nodded along as he read about a family of bears, using silly voices that made Lily laugh and drew Noah’s wide-eyed attention.

Estella watched Thomas with an unreadable expression. When the story ended, Noah was asleep. Lily was almost there.

Thomas turned off the main light, leaving just a soft night lamp glowing. As he stepped out, Estella’s small voice stopped him.

“Thomas… will you really stay with us? You’re not going to leave?”

The question hit him hard. Adults had always disappeared from her life—her father, her mother, neighbors.

“I’m not leaving, Estella,” he said, sitting beside her bed.
“This is my home now. And it’s yours too. We’re together. A family.”

She didn’t reply, but blinked at him with a mix of hope and fear in her eyes.

“Sleep well,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “Tomorrow will be a better day.”

Later, in his living room, Thomas stared at the city lights, reflecting on how much his life had changed in just a few days—knowing he would make mistakes, but determined to give these children a real family.

“They’re my family now,” he said simply.

After several more attempts to engage with the children, Diana asked Thomas if they could speak privately.

They stepped into the kitchen, leaving Estella in charge of Lily and Noah.

“Mr. Black, I came here thinking I was fixing something,” Diana began.
“I believed Lily and Noah should be with their real family—their blood relative.”

“I understand your concern,” Thomas said gently.
“But I see how they look at you, how they trust you—how safe they feel. At the same time, I know you’re their aunt. Their only remaining family.”

“I can’t just go back to my life as if they didn’t exist,” Diana said.

“No one’s asking you to,” Thomas replied.
“You can be part of their lives. Visit them. Build a bond.”

Diana glanced back at the living room where the children were playing.

“I need time to think. I don’t want to cause them more trauma… but I can’t ignore my responsibility.”

“Take your time,” Thomas assured her. “The kids aren’t going anywhere.”

When Diana left the apartment, she was visibly shaken.

She made no direct threats, but Thomas could tell she was unsure of what to do. She said she would get in touch once she had processed everything she had seen and heard. Thomas closed the door and leaned his forehead against it for a moment, utterly exhausted. When he turned around, he found Estella standing in the hallway, watching him.

“Is she going to take us?” she asked.

“I don’t know, Estella,” he replied honestly. “But I will fight for you, no matter what. I’ll make sure you all stay together and safe.”

She nodded slowly, accepting the uncertainty but trusting his promise. Thomas hugged her, feeling the full weight of the responsibility he had taken on. What had started as a quest for redemption was now something much more—love, family, his whole life.

Back in the living room, Lily and Noah played, unaware of the storm brewing. Thomas knew a difficult battle awaited. Diana Carter was torn between her sense of duty and what was best for the children. All he could do now was strengthen the bonds between them and prepare to protect his new family if needed.

Diana Carter sat on her hotel bed, phone in hand, and a lawyer’s business card in front of her. She couldn’t stop thinking about the three children in Thomas Blacke’s home. On one hand, it was clear they were being well cared for. On the other, Lily and Noah were her blood relatives—the last link to Olivia. The more she thought about it, the more morally compelled she felt to step forward.

“I should’ve been there,” she murmured. “When you got sick, Olivia. I should’ve been a better sister.”

Lily’s words echoed in her mind. “I’d never seen you before.” And the image of Noah, so at ease in Thomas’s arms, calling him Dad.

Still, Diana picked up the phone and dialed the number on the card.

“Reynolds Law Firm. How can I help you?”

“Yes, my name is Diana Carter. I need help with a child custody case.”

The next morning, Thomas met Marcus at his office. The news was disheartening.

“Diana Carter has hired Patricia Reynolds,” Marcus said gravely. “She’s one of the best family lawyers in the region.”

Thomas felt a deep unease. “So she’s going to fight for custody—at least for Lily and Noah, since she isn’t contesting my paternity of Estella?”

Marcus nodded. Thomas stood abruptly and began pacing.

“Marcus, didn’t you see how the kids reacted? They didn’t even recognize her. Lily and Noah don’t know her!”

“I understand,” Marcus said, “but legally, Diana’s claim as a blood relative is strong. You, on the other hand, have no biological connection to Lily and Noah.”

“What about the emotional bond? They call me Dad. They feel safe with me.”

“The children’s emotional well-being is a major factor the judge will consider. That’s why we need a solid case.”

Thomas took a deep breath to steady himself. “What do we need to do?”

“Document everything about the children’s progress under your care—medical reports, testimonies. It would also help to have a child psychologist evaluate the emotional bonds they’ve formed.”

“Will the children have to testify?”

“Possibly. The judge might want to hear from Estella or maybe Lily, but in an informal setting.”

Thomas ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t want them to go through that. They’ve suffered enough.”

Back home, Thomas found Clare reading a story to the children. Lily was curled in her lap. Noah played with blocks, and Estella listened quietly, though she seemed distant.

“Thomas!” Lily exclaimed when she saw him. She jumped from Clare’s lap and ran to hug him.

“Hey, princess,” he said, lifting her in his arms. “How was your day?”

“I drew flowers!” Clare smiled. “They’re beautiful, Noah.”

Hearing Thomas’s voice, Noah crawled over quickly, arms raised, yelling, “Papa! Papa!”

Only Estella remained still, watching Thomas with knowing eyes.

After Clare left and the kids had dinner, Thomas decided honesty was best—at least with Estella. While Lily and Noah played in the living room, he motioned for Estella to step out onto the balcony.

“Did something happen? Is it bad?” she asked directly.

Thomas nodded. “Do you remember your Aunt Diana, who visited? She thinks Lily and Noah should live with her.”

Estella’s eyes widened. “Take them away?”

Thomas knelt beside her. “She believes that because she’s your mom’s sister, they’d be better off with her.”

“But we’re a family.” Estella’s voice rose with emotion. “We’ve always been together. Mom said we should never be separated.”

“I know, and I agree. That’s why I’m fighting to keep all three of you here.”

“She can’t just show up and take them, right, Thomas?”

He hesitated. “There’s a legal process. A judge will decide what’s best for Lily and Noah.”

“What if the judge gets it wrong?” Her direct question broke his heart.

Thomas took her hand. “We’ll do everything we can to show the judge that the best place for them is here—with you and me.”

That night, while tucking the kids in, Thomas noticed a change. Lily asked for the light to be left on. Noah clung to him each time he tried to leave the room. Estella stayed awake, alert like in the early days.

Later that night, when he went to check on them, he found Lily still awake, wide-eyed in the dim light.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked gently, sitting on the edge of her bed.

Lily shook her head. “Thomas, is that strange woman going to take me?”

His heart broke. “Are you worried Aunt Diana will come back?”

She nodded, blue eyes filling with tears. “I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you, Estella, and Noah.”

He hugged her tightly. “I’m doing everything I can to keep us all together. I promise—pinky promise.”

Lily extended her pinky. He linked his with hers, sealing the promise he prayed he could keep.

In the days that followed, tension filled the apartment. Noah cried more, refusing to separate from Thomas and Estella. Lily repeatedly asked if the stranger would return. Estella took everything in silently, her anxiety building.

One afternoon, as Thomas worked from home, Estella entered his office carrying a box.

“What’s this?”

“I found it among Mom’s things—the ones we brought from the old apartment.”

Thomas opened the cardboard box. Inside were Olivia’s clothes, some books, the sunflower paintings, and a worn leather notebook.

“Mom used to write in it every night,” Estella explained. “She said it was her diary.”

Thomas hesitated. “Maybe we should keep it private. It’s personal.”

“She told me that if something happened to her, I should give it to someone she trusted.” Estella handed him the journal. “She trusted you.”

Carefully, Thomas opened it. Olivia’s handwriting was delicate, almost artistic.

The first entries from six years ago documented her fears about raising a child alone after Thomas left. Later pages spoke of Diana, who had only called once nearly a year ago, never asking about Olivia’s pregnancy or well-being. After Estella’s birth, Olivia wrote she had sent Diana a photo of her daughter. She never got a reply.

“It’s just me and my baby against the world,” she wrote.

Other entries described the births of Lily and Noah, financial struggles, and her declining health.

One of the last entries, dated just a few months before her death, froze Thomas in place.

“If anything happens to me, I hope Estella, Lily, and Noah stay together. They’re inseparable. Lily cries when Estella goes to buy bread. Noah only sleeps if they’re near. Diana might show up trying to fix things when it’s already too late. She never knew the kids, never cared. I want them with someone who loves all three for who they are—together.”

Thomas closed the diary, eyes stinging.

Even in death, Olivia’s priority was her children’s well-being.

“Can I call Marcus?” he asked Estella. “I think your mom left us something very important.”

The next morning, Marcus came to see the journal. After reading the relevant passages, he looked at Thomas with renewed confidence.

“This is significant,” he said. “Olivia explicitly stated her wish to keep the children together and her concern about Diana’s lack of involvement. That’s a powerful argument.”

“Do you think it’ll affect the case?” asked Thomas.

“Absolutely. I’ll inform Diana’s lawyer immediately.”

“Do they feel safe with me?” Thomas asked.
“The emotional well-being of the children is a key factor the judge will consider. That’s why we need a solid case.”

Thomas took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.
“What do we need to do?”

“Document all the children’s progress under your care—medical reports, testimonies. It would also help if a child psychologist could assess the bonds they’ve formed.”

“Will the children have to testify?”

“Possibly. The judge might want to hear from Estella or maybe Lily, but it would be in an informal setting.”

Thomas ran a hand through his hair.
“I don’t want them to go through that. They’ve already suffered so much.”

Back home, Thomas found Clare reading a story to the kids.
Lily was curled up in her lap. Noah was playing with blocks, and Estella was listening, though she seemed distant.

“Thomas!” Lily exclaimed when she saw him.
She jumped from Clare’s lap and ran to hug him.

“Hey, princess,” he said, lifting her into his arms.
“How was your day?”

“I drew flowers,” Clare said with a smile.
“They’re beautiful, Noah.”

Hearing Thomas’s voice, Noah crawled quickly toward him, arms up, shouting,
“Daddy! Daddy!”

Only Estella stayed still, watching Thomas with knowing eyes.

After Clare left and the kids had dinner, Thomas decided honesty was best—at least with Estella.

While Lily and Noah played in the living room, he signaled for Estella to join him on the balcony.

“Did something happen? Is it bad?” she asked directly.
Thomas nodded.

“Do you remember your aunt Diana who visited? She thinks Lily and Noah should be with her.”

Estella’s eyes widened.
“Take them away?”

Thomas knelt beside her.

“She believes that, as your mother’s sister, they’d be better off with her.”

“But we’re a family,” Estella said, her voice rising with emotion.
“We’ve always been together. Mom said we should never be separated.”

“I know. And I agree. That’s why I’m fighting for all three of you to stay here.”

“She can’t just come and take them, right, Thomas?”

He hesitated.
“There’s a legal process. A judge will decide what’s best for Lily and Noah.”

“What if the judge decides wrong?” she asked, cutting straight to the heart of his fears.

Thomas took her hand.
“We’ll do everything we can to show the judge that the best place for them is here—with you and me.”

That night, as he tucked them into bed, Thomas noticed a shift in the children.
Lily asked for the light to be left on.
Noah clung tighter than usual.
Estella lay awake, alert like she had been during their early days together.

Later that night, when Thomas checked on them, he found Lily still wide awake, eyes open in the dim light.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked gently, sitting on the edge of her bed.

Lily shook her head.

“That strange lady… is she going to take me?”

Thomas’s heart broke.

“Are you worried about Aunt Diana coming back?”

She nodded, her blue eyes filling with tears.

“I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you, and Estella, and Noah.”

He hugged her tightly.

“I’m doing everything I can to make sure we all stay together. I promise. Pinky promise.”

Lily held out her pinky.
He wrapped his around hers, sealing a promise he prayed he could keep.

In the days that followed, tension filled the apartment.
Noah cried more often, refusing to be separated from Thomas or Estella.
Lily repeatedly asked if the stranger would come back.
Estella absorbed it all silently, her anxiety growing.

One afternoon, as Thomas worked from home, Estella came into his office carrying a box.

“What’s this?”

“I found it among Mom’s things—the ones we brought from the other apartment.”

Thomas opened the cardboard box.
Inside were some of Olivia’s clothes, a few books, the sunflower paintings—and a worn leather-bound notebook.

“Mom used to write in it every night,” Estella explained.
“She said it was her journal.”

Thomas hesitated.
“Maybe we should keep it private. It’s personal.”

“She told me if something ever happened to her, I should give it to someone she trusted.”
Estella handed him the journal.
“She’d trust you.”

Carefully, Thomas opened it.
Olivia’s handwriting was delicate, almost artistic.

The first entries from six years ago documented her fears about raising a child alone after Thomas left.
Later pages mentioned Diana, who had only called once nearly a year ago, never asking about Olivia’s pregnancy or well-being.

After Estella’s birth, Olivia wrote that she’d sent Diana a picture of her daughter. There was no reply.

“It’s just me and my baby against the world,” she wrote.

Other entries described Lily and Noah’s births, financial struggles, and her declining health.

One of the final entries, dated just months before her death, froze Thomas in place:

“If anything happens to me, I hope Estella, Lily, and Noah stay together. They’re inseparable. Lily cries when Estella goes to buy bread. Noah only sleeps if they’re nearby. Diana might show up trying to fix things when it’s too late. She never knew the kids, never cared. I want them with someone who loves them for who they are—all three together.”

Thomas closed the journal, eyes blurred with tears.

Even in the face of death, Olivia’s priority had been her children’s well-being.

“Can I call Marcus?” he asked Estella.
“I think your mom left us something very important.”

The next morning, Marcus came to see the journal.
After reading the key passages, he looked at Thomas with renewed confidence.

“This is significant,” he said.
“Olivia explicitly stated her wish to keep the children together and expressed concern about Diana’s lack of understanding. That’s a powerful argument.”

“Do you think it will affect the case?” Thomas asked.
“Absolutely. I’ll inform Diana’s lawyer right away.”

Diana was drinking coffee in her hotel room when her attorney, Patricia Reynolds, called with an update.

“A journal?” Diana asked incredulously.
“It appears to be authentic. The handwriting matches other samples, but the real issue is the content.”

Reynolds read some of the passages aloud. Diana felt as if she had been slapped.
Olivia’s words hurt—because they were true. Diana had never truly cared, had never been there, and now she was trying to fix things far too late.

“What does this mean for our case?” Diana whispered.
“It complicates things. The mother’s expressed wishes carry weight, and the emotional well-being of the children is key. If a psychologist confirms that separating them would be traumatic…”

Diana sat in silence, stunned, guilt eating her alive.
Was she doing this for the children—or just to soothe her own conscience?

“I need to think,” she finally said.
“When is the hearing?”
“Next Monday. Judge Araman.”

After hanging up, Diana stood by the window, torn.
Part of her felt obligated to care for her niece and nephews.
Another part saw the loving home they had found and feared that forcing them to move might hurt them more than help.

But giving in felt like admitting Olivia had been right about her—that she was selfish, distant, and incapable of real empathy.

With shaky breath, she picked up the phone again.

“We’ll proceed with the hearing,” she said firmly.
“I want to look that judge in the eye when I explain why I believe I should raise my niece and nephews.”

Her voice trembled.

“I was wrong. I saw how they look at you, how much they trust you. How safe they feel with you.”
Thomas looked her in the eye.
“Thank you for saying that. They need both of us in their lives. You’re their aunt. I hope you’ll still be part of our family.”

Diana nodded, eyes full of tears.
“I want that. I’m sorry I ever doubted.”

They returned to the courtroom just as the bailiff declared the hearing open.
Judge Araman cleared his throat.

“I’ve heard all the testimony and have seen the deep bond these children share with each other and with Mr. Blacke. I also recognize Ms. Carter’s important role as their aunt. But it is crucial that these siblings remain together in a stable and loving home.”

He paused, looking at Diana, then Thomas.

“Therefore, I grant Mr. Thomas Black full guardianship of Estella, Lily, and Noah. Ms. Carter will have visitation rights and is encouraged to build her relationship with them. Any attempt to remove the children from this home would be against their best interests.”

Thomas felt a wave of relief.
Estella squeezed his hand.
Sensing the shift, Lily and Noah ran to hug him.

Diana rose calmly and approached the bench.

“Your Honor, thank you. I accept these terms.”

Then she walked over to Thomas and the children.
Kneeling to their eye level, she opened her arms.

“May I have a hug?”

Estella, Lily, and Noah rushed into her embrace in one joyful burst.
Thomas watched, his heart full.

In that moment, their new family—unconventional, perhaps, but united by love—became official.

“When I found out about Olivia and the kids,” Diana confessed,
“my first reaction was guilt—for not being there when my sister needed me.”

“I thought taking Lily and Noah was my way of atoning for my guilt,” Diana sighed.
“But today, hearing them say they don’t know me, seeing Lily clinging to Estella in fear… I realized I wasn’t thinking about them—I was thinking about myself.”

“You don’t have to disappear from their lives,” Thomas said gently.
“You can build a relationship with them over time—if you respect their comfort.”
“You’d really allow that… after I tried to take them from you?” Diana’s voice wavered.
“They’re your family,” Thomas assured her.
“They deserve to know their mother’s sister. We just have to make sure they’re safe.”

Diana wiped away a tear.
“I’m withdrawing my petition. They belong with you—all three of them. It’s what Olivia wanted. It’s what the kids want.”

When the hearing resumed, Judge Araman called for closing statements.
Diana stood first.

“Your Honor, I’m withdrawing my petition for custody of Lily and Noah Carter.”

The judge raised an eyebrow.
“May I ask why?”

“Today, I saw with my own eyes how happy, safe, and thriving my nieces and nephew are with Mr. Black and Stella. Separating them would be cruel. I’m not stepping down out of fear of losing—I truly believe it’s best for them to stay where they are.”

She glanced gently at the judge.
“I hope to get to know them little by little, in a way that doesn’t disrupt the stability they’ve found. If Mr. Black allows it, I would love to be part of their lives.”

Thomas stood.

“Your Honor, I fully support this arrangement. The children can only benefit from having more family—someone who knew their mother well.”

Judge Araman smiled.

“In that case, I hereby grant Thomas Black permanent custody of Stella Black as her biological father. As for Lily and Noah Carter, I grant Mr. Black legal guardianship, respecting their mother’s wish that they remain together. Ms. Carter will have visitation rights, always keeping the children’s emotional well-being in mind.”

A few days later, Thomas’s apartment felt brighter.
Lily was drawing sunflowers in the living room—her talent a reflection of Olivia.
Noah was toddling from room to room, mastering his newfound ability to walk.
Estella sat beside Thomas, reading a story together.

The doorbell rang.
Thomas answered and returned with Diana, holding a basket of homemade muffins and small gifts.

“Hi,” she greeted, still a bit nervous.
“I thought I’d bring something to share… maybe spend some time getting to know each other better.”

Lily looked at Estella for reassurance.
Estella gave a small nod.

“Are you Mommy’s sister?” Lily asked bluntly.
“Yes. I knew your mommy when we were little girls.”

“Can you braid hair like she did?” Lily asked.

Diana smiled in surprise.
“Yes. She taught me. I can teach you too, if you’d like.”

Noah approached cautiously, half-hiding behind Thomas’s legs.
Diana knelt and offered him a small wrapped toy.
He accepted it with a shy smile.

That afternoon, Diana shared stories from Olivia’s childhood—like the time she drew all over the walls because she loved sunflowers so much.
The kids listened closely, soaking in every new detail about their mother.

Thomas hung Olivia’s large sunflower painting in a prominent place in the living room—the same one Estella had been selling when they first met.

“It looks perfect there,” Diana said softly.
“Olivia always had a special gift.”

When it was time to leave, the children seemed noticeably more at ease with her.
Lily let Diana braid her hair.
Noah proudly showed off his block-stacking skills.
Estella recalled watching Olivia paint.

“Can I come back next week?” Diana asked at the door.
“Yes!” Lily said excitedly.
“Will you teach me more braids?”
“Of course,” Diana promised.

Thomas noticed the mix of emotions in Diana’s eyes—grief for her lost sister, gratitude for this second chance with the children, and relief that they were in a good place.

That night, after tucking the kids into bed, Thomas gazed at the sunflower painting.

Like those flowers that always turn toward the sun, his life had turned in a new direction.
Not the one he’d planned—but far better than he ever imagined.
His newly formed family was now officially bound—not just by blood or legal documents, but by something stronger:
love, choice, and the silent promise he had made to Olivia.