A Different Kind of Reunion
Months later, on a quiet morning, Kira stood on a small porch.
She held the baby.
Carter stood across from her.
No guards.
No chains.
No ticking clock.
She hesitated… then placed the child into his arms.
This time, his hands didn’t shake.
“Hey, kid,” he said softly.
“I’m your dad.”
Tears fell freely now.
“I’m late,” he whispered, “but I’m here.
