Later, I folded Charlotte’s letter and placed it on the table.
Mia wiped her tears. “I thought you’d be more shocked.”
“I am,” I said. “But I don’t feel lost.”
That surprised them.
Nelly asked, “You’re not upset?”
“No. I’ve spent enough time being upset about things I didn’t understand.”
We sat together at the kitchen table.
“At the end of the day,” I said, “nothing important has changed.”
They looked at me, confused.
“I raised nine daughters because I wanted to—not because I had to. Finding out one of you is biologically mine doesn’t change anything. It just explains why it always felt right.”
Mia smiled. “Dad, you’re the best.”
The tension in the room finally lifted.
“We were scared,” Dina admitted. “We didn’t want anything to change.”
But nothing had. If anything, everything felt more complete.
We moved into the living room after dinner. The atmosphere felt lighter.
Mia sat beside me and rested her head on my shoulder, just like she used to.
“You ever wonder what would’ve happened if Mom told you back then?” she asked.
“I used to,” I said.
“And now?”
“Now I think… we ended up exactly where we were meant to be.”
She smiled. “I like that answer.”
Later, Lacy brought out dessert.
“You didn’t think we’d show up empty-handed, did you?” she teased.
“Wouldn’t put it past you,” I joked.
We laughed, talked over each other, passed plates around—just like old times.
At one point, someone asked, “So what do we do now?”
I looked at all nine of them—grown women now. Strong. Independent. Still mine.
“We keep going,” I said.
That was all.
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