Her face brightens. "I am."
"Can I stay the night here, Alana?" Kyra bounds up to Alana.
"Not tonight, chicken. Tomorrow is a very important day, and you need a good night’s rest."
I'm too excited." She climbs onto Alana's lap.
"Me too, chicken. But we have to be at the courthouse at nine, so we better go."
"Good luck tomorrow." I resist the urge to give Alana a kiss on the cheek, knowing that even a friendly peck will have us both spiraling to a place we can't yet go.
They leave, the two girls in my life who I have no claim to call my own yet. But I hope that by this time tomorrow, things will be different.
24
ALANA
Kyra shifts her weight from one foot to another as she peers up at the judge seated behind the wide wooden bench.
She's in her favorite tulle skirt that's purple with golden sparkles woven through the fabric. Her hair is braided neatly for the occasion.
By the time we got back from Amos's place last night, she was asleep in the car. I carried her inside and tried not to think about the little boy I had to take into emergency foster care yesterday. There are so many kids who need a home, but I can only do so much on my own. I'm just glad Amos was able to pick up Kyra, so I didn't leave him scared and on his own.
"Can you state the child's new name in full?"
The judge smiles down at me, and I squeeze Kyra's hand. "Kyra Romana Johnson."
Kyra squeezes my hand back and grins up at me.
The judge picks up a fountain pen. "I'm going to sign this paperwork, and then you've got your girl."
I hold my breath as he scrawls his signature on the adoption certificate.
It's been a long wait for this day, but finally Kyra will officially be mine. The adoption ceremony is the final step. It's a formality in the long process that's taken over six months and a lot of sacrifice.
The judge holds up the certificate with his official signature. "Congratulations Kyra and Alana, you are officially a family."
Kyra turns to me with hopeful eyes. "Can I call you Mom now?"
There are tears in my eyes as I nod. "Yes, honey. You can call me Mom."
She beams up at me and leaps into my arms. We both shriek, and I twirl her around before remembering we're in a courtroom. However, by the way the judge is beaming at us, he doesn't seem to mind.
I set Kyra down, and she takes a firm hold of my hand. The judge hands over the certificate and we both stare at it, marveling at our names together on the document that makes Kyra officially my daughter.
"Would you like me to take a photo?" My family lawyer is smiling as much as the judge.
I hand her my phone, and she snaps a few pictures of me and Kyra holding the certificate proudly between us.
"I've got to send one to Amos."
My lawyer murmurs her congratulations as she hands the phone back, and I send the picture off to Amos.
In the last few months, we've remained friends. I don't regret the night we spent together. But as I stare into the smiling face of my daughter, I don't regret putting her first.
We've been friendly, but he's kept his distance. Still, he's the first person I think of who I want to send the picture to.
He texts back with a smiling emoji.
