«I had two made,» she said. «One for me, and one for the baby I thought I’d never see again.»
Jader stared at it, then looked at Catherine. «I don’t need it to know who I am,» she whispered. «But I’ll wear it to remember who you chose to become.»
Three months later, the Waverley Foundation quietly announced a new scholarship initiative for young women in foster care pursuing tech education. It was named after no family member. It was called the Jader Lane Initiative.
At the official press launch, Catherine stood beside Jader, not as a benefactor, but as a mother trying to show up the way she never had before. Chase spoke at the podium.
«She’s not my sister by blood,» he said, «but I’d be proud if she was.»
The room fell silent, then erupted in applause. Later that day, in a quiet corner of the foundation’s new mentorship wing, Jader helped a shy twelve-year-old girl troubleshoot a broken circuit. Catherine watched from the hallway, her eyes wet but steady.
Robert stood beside her. «She’s not your mistake,» he said. «She’s your miracle.»
Catherine didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Jader wore both necklaces now, hers and the one Catherine had saved—not as symbols of pain, but as a fusion of past and future. She hadn’t just found a family. She had redefined one.
Sometimes the most powerful connections aren’t the ones we’re born into, but the ones we choose to fight for.
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