My wife and I had always dreamed of growing our family. Since she couldn’t have children, it was just the three of us—her, me, and my five-year-old daughter, Sophia, from a previous marriage. We both adored Sophia, and after many heartfelt conversations, we decided to adopt and give another child the loving home they deserved.

The day of our visit to the orphanage, we were welcomed by Mrs. Garcia, the kind, gray-haired director with warm eyes. After a thoughtful conversation about the process, she led us to the playroom, where the laughter of children filled the air.

We spent the afternoon playing and chatting with the kids, waiting for that moment when our hearts would tell us we’d found the one.

As I knelt to help a few children with a puzzle, I felt a tiny tap on my shoulder. I turned—and froze.

A little girl stood there, looking up at me with curious eyes and an innocent smile.

“Are you my new daddy? I just feel like you are.”

Time stood still. My wife gasped. This little girl looked exactly like Sophia. Same eyes, same smile—and then I saw it. A birthmark. The same birthmark my daughter had.

My heart raced.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

She smiled sweetly. “Angel.”