Temporary custody was granted through an acquaintance, Margarita Jiménez, a social worker.
“Only until they find their mother,” Nicolás repeated.
He took the children to his spacious apartment.
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Adrián said nothing, just held Lucía. His eyes reflected fear—not of him, but of life itself.
The silence of the once-empty house was now filled with laughter, crying, and the lullabies Adrián sang to his sister.
Nicolás made mistakes with diapers, forgot meals, and didn’t know how to hold a bottle. But Adrián helped him silently, mature beyond his years. Only once did he say,
“I don’t want her to be afraid.”
One night, Lucía cried. Adrián held her and sang until she calmed down. Nicolás looked at him with a lump in his throat.
“You did a good job,” he said.
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“I have to study,” the boy replied, without complaining.
Then the phone rang. It was Margarita.
“They found her mother. She’s alive, but she’s in rehab. D.rug addict, serious. If she recovers, she can get custody of the children back. If not… the state will take care of them. Or… you.”
Nicolás remained silent.
“You can file for custody. Or adopt them. It’s up to you.”
That afternoon, Adrián was huddled in a corner. He wasn’t playing or watching TV.
Suddenly, he asked:
“Will they take us away again?”
Nicolás sat down next to him.
“I don’t know… But I’ll do everything I can to keep them safe.”
“What if they separate us again?” His voice was shaky, weak.
Nicolás hugged him.
“I won’t leave you. I promise. Never.”
The next day, he called Margarita:
“I want to file for adoption. Forever.”
The evaluations, visits, and paperwork arrived. But now he had a purpose: to protect those children.
He bought a house on the outskirts, with a garden and peace and quiet.
Adrián was reborn: he ran, read aloud, drew, baked cookies. Nicolás laughed again.
One night, as he tucked him in, he heard:
“Good night, Dad…”
“Good night, son,” he replied, holding back tears.
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In the spring, the adoption was formalized. But in his heart, Nicolás already knew.
Lucía’s first word—“Dad”—was the most precious sound of his life.
He hadn’t planned to be a father. But now he didn’t understand how he had lived without them.
And if anyone asked when his new life began, he would answer without hesitation:
“Since that ‘Sir, please…”
Life surprises us when we least expect it. Sometimes, the greatest purpose comes disguised as someone else’s need, and in the act of loving, we find our own redemption.
