Part One

The oak-paneled courtroom was suffocating that morning. I could feel sweat sliding down the back of my neck as I sat at the defendant’s table, trying to keep my composure while my lawyer whispered about strategy I barely heard. Divorce hearings were supposed to be about splitting property, setting schedules, working out custody. But the tension in that room had already gone beyond anything I could have imagined.

It was about my daughter. My little girl, Lily. She was six years old at the time—bright eyes, curly brown hair, the sweetest laugh that could light up an entire house. She was my everything. And I was fighting like hell to keep her in my life.

Denise, my soon-to-be ex-wife, sat on the other side of the room. Her eyes were red, but her expression cold and fixed. I thought I’d seen every shade of her cruelty during the last year, but I hadn’t seen anything yet.

The judge called for the next witness. When the bailiff opened the side door and my best friend walked in, my stomach dropped.

“Russell Peterson,” the clerk announced.

My Russell. The guy I’d known since high school football. My best man at my wedding. My fishing buddy. The guy who held Lily when she was born.

Relief hit me first. Surely Russell was here to vouch for me—to tell the judge I was a decent father, that I’d never laid a hand on my daughter. But then I saw his face. Tight. Nervous. Avoiding my eyes as he swore to tell the truth.

He sat down, cleared his throat, and when he finally did look at me, it was with a kind of cold triumph I’ll never forget.

“Mr. Peterson,” Denise’s lawyer began smoothly, “can you describe the incident you witnessed between Mr. Carter and his daughter?”

The words barely registered before my world tilted sideways.

Russell’s voice cracked at first, like he might choke on what he was saying. “I—I saw Mike,” he said, pointing at me with a trembling hand. “I saw him grab Lily and shake her. She was crying so hard she couldn’t breathe. He—he lost his temper. I was afraid for her.”

Gasps rippled across the courtroom. My lawyer froze. The judge’s pen stopped moving. My heart nearly exploded.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I blurted, half-standing before the bailiff gestured for me to sit back down.

Russell didn’t stop. He pulled out a stack of doctored texts and video clips—snippets of me playing with Lily in the backyard, cropped and slowed to make it look like I was being rough. Her laughter had been twisted into cries. Her joy into fear.

I felt like I was in a nightmare.

I looked at Denise. She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, sobbing like every word was true. My chest tightened with panic.

The judge leaned back, his gaze drilling into me. My lawyer whispered frantically, “Stay quiet. Don’t blow up. Just—just wait.”

Wait? Wait while my best friend stabbed me in the back?

The rest of the hearing was a blur. Denise’s attorney painted me as an unstable drunk with rage issues. Russell wept on the stand like some noble hero stepping in to save an innocent child. My lawyer tried to object, tried to poke holes in their story, but he wasn’t ready for the level of lies they’d constructed.

When it was my turn to speak, I told the truth. I denied every word. I begged the court to see what was happening—that this was a coordinated setup. But every time I looked at the judge, I saw the doubt in his eyes. The disgust.

The gavel came down like a coffin lid sealing shut.

“No visitation. No phone calls. No contact.”

I was finished.

I stumbled out of that courtroom like a man stripped of his skin. Outside, I couldn’t breathe. My hands shook so badly I could barely grab my car keys. By the time I got home, I’d already cracked open a bottle of whiskey, trying to drown the pain before it drowned me.

Hours later, drunk and broken, I dialed Russell’s number. I demanded to know why he’d destroyed me. Why he’d lied.

He laughed. Cold. Cruel.

“I’ve wanted Denise for years,” he said, his voice low and smug. “She’s mine now. And Lily’s better off with us than with you. You’ll never see her again.”

Then Denise herself got on the line. Her voice dripped venom. “He’ll be a better father than you ever were. You were just in the way.”

I dropped the phone and sobbed until I couldn’t breathe.

That was the night everything ended.

I left the state a few weeks later, dragging my shattered pride with me. But no matter how far I went, I couldn’t let go of Lily. Every year, every birthday, every Christmas, I sent her cards and gifts. Letters telling her I loved her. That I’d never forgotten her. I didn’t know if they ever reached her. But I had to try.

Ten years. Ten years of silence. Ten years of believing she might grow up hating me. Ten years of drinking myself to sleep wondering if she thought I abandoned her.

And then one phone call from a hospital changed everything.

My phone buzzed late one afternoon while I was fixing a busted server in the IT office where I worked. A nurse’s voice on the other end.

“Are you Michael Carter? You’re listed as the emergency contact for Lily Carter.”

My heart nearly stopped.

“Your daughter’s been in an accident. She’s stable, but you should come.”

My hands shook so bad I dropped the phone. After ten years of being shut out, my daughter had put my name down as the one person to call in an emergency.

I grabbed my keys and drove like a madman toward my old hometown, my chest pounding with hope, fear, rage, and love all twisted together.

Because whatever waited for me at that hospital, I knew one thing for certain:
I wasn’t going to lose her again.

Part Two

The hospital parking lot smelled faintly of asphalt and cigarette smoke as I pulled in, hands still trembling on the steering wheel. I sat there for a moment, forehead pressed to the cool surface of my steering wheel, trying to summon courage I wasn’t sure I had.

Ten years. Ten years since I’d last seen my daughter. Ten years since Denise and Russell had stolen her away with their lies. What would she think of me now? Would she even recognize me?

I forced myself out of the car and pushed through the sliding glass doors. The antiseptic smell hit me like a wave. My heart hammered as I approached the reception desk.

“I’m here for Lily Carter,” I croaked, my throat dry. “She was in an accident. I—I’m her father.”

The young woman at the desk tapped her keyboard, then gave me a quick smile. “Room 214, second floor. She’s stable. Just check in with the nurse before you go in.”

Stable. The word carried me up the stairs like a lifeline.

But when I reached the waiting room outside her ward, my steps froze.

Denise was there. And Russell.

They both looked up, their faces registering the same stunned horror. They hadn’t expected me to come.

Russell’s bulk filled the corner of the waiting room, his frame softer than it had been in our youth but still intimidating. Denise sat rigid in her chair, eyes narrowing into knives when she saw me.

The air between us was suffocating.

“What are you doing here?” Denise hissed, rising to her feet.

“They called me,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I’m her emergency contact.”

For once, she looked thrown off balance. She glanced at Russell, then back at me. “That must be a mistake.”

“No,” I said firmly. “Not a mistake.”

The nurse appeared then, sparing us from tearing into each other right there in the waiting room. “Mr. Carter? You can go in. She’s awake now.”

I didn’t wait for Denise or Russell to object. I pushed past them and into the room.

The sight nearly dropped me to my knees.

Lily lay in the bed, a bandage around her head, her arm in a cast. Sixteen years old now, no longer the little girl I remembered, but I’d know those eyes anywhere—deep brown with flecks of amber that caught the light exactly like mine. Her hair was longer, dark waves spilling across her pillow.

She looked up as I stepped inside.

“Dad?” she whispered, her voice weak, fragile.

That one word shattered me.

I hadn’t heard her call me that in a decade.

My knees buckled, and I found myself at her bedside, tears streaming freely. “Yeah, baby girl. It’s me. I’m here.”

Her lips trembled, her eyes wide with confusion. “They… they told me you left us. That you didn’t want me.”

My heart cracked all over again. I swallowed hard, forcing the words out through the knot in my throat. “That’s not true, Lily. I’ve thought about you every single day. I sent cards, letters, presents—everything I could. They just never gave them to you.”

Her face twisted in pain, a tear sliding down her cheek. “I never got anything.”

I reached for her hand but stopped, afraid I might hurt her fragile body. She reached first, small fingers cold against my palm. “I know. I just found out they kept it all from you.”

Silence stretched between us, broken only by the steady beep of the heart monitor.

Finally, she looked up again, her voice trembling. “Did you really hurt me when I was little? Mom always said you had anger issues.”

“No.” My voice was sharp, almost desperate. “Never, Lily. I would never hurt you. Russell lied. He made up stories to help your mom get custody.”

Her brow furrowed, confusion clouding her features. “Why would they do that?”

I swallowed, anger simmering low in my chest. “Because Russell wanted your mom. They were together even before the divorce. They lied to take you from me.”

She blinked, searching my face, looking for cracks. “I found pictures,” she whispered. “Up in the attic. Mom always said you were dangerous, but… you looked happy in those pictures. Normal. You were holding me, smiling. It didn’t match what they told me.”

My throat tightened. “What else did you find?”

Her lips trembled. “Letters. A whole box with my name on it. They were opened. From you.”

My chest constricted so hard I thought I might collapse. “You… you found my letters?”

She nodded, tears spilling freely now. “That’s why I put you as my emergency contact. I memorized your number from one of them. I wasn’t sure it still worked.”

I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I bent my head against her hand, my shoulders shaking as I cried. Ten years of grief, rage, and longing all spilling out at once.

But before I could gather myself, the curtain at the side of the room swished open. Denise swept back in, Russell trailing behind her like a shadow.

The fragile peace shattered instantly.

“She needs rest,” Denise snapped, positioning herself between me and Lily. “You’ve upset her enough.”

Lily’s weak voice cut through the tension like a knife. “I want my dad.”

The nurse froze mid-step, looking at Denise, then at me. “She’s a minor,” Denise insisted quickly. “I make the decisions.”

But the nurse’s gaze shifted back to Lily. “Lily, who do you want to stay with you?”

Denise’s jaw tightened. She opened her mouth to speak—but Lily beat her to it.

“I said I want my dad.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Denise’s face paled. Russell’s hands balled into fists.

The nurse nodded. “Then that’s what we’ll honor. Ma’am, sir, I’ll need you both to leave. The patient has requested privacy with her father.”

Denise sputtered. “This is outrageous!”

But the nurse was already ushering them out, firm but professional. “Please respect her wishes.”

As the door clicked shut behind them, Lily squeezed my hand tighter.

For the first time in a decade, I believed maybe—just maybe—I had a chance to win my daughter back.

Part Three

I sat by Lily’s bed in that dim hospital room, my heart still hammering from what had just happened. Ten years of silence, ten years of being shut out, and now she had chosen me—out loud, in front of her mother and Russell.

The steady beeping of the monitor seemed to fade as I studied her face. She was so much older than the last time I’d seen her, but I still saw the little girl who used to curl up in my lap with a picture book. My throat ached.

“They told me you left us,” she said again, staring at the ceiling. Her voice was soft, but every word landed like a stone in my chest. “That you didn’t want me anymore. That you… hurt me when I was little.”

I clenched my fists in my lap, trying not to let the anger boil over. “Lily, I swear to you—I never left you. I tried everything I could to stay in your life. The court believed lies, not the truth. And as for hurting you? No. Never. Not once.”

Her eyes flicked to mine, searching, testing, like she wanted to believe but was afraid. “Then why would they lie?”

“Because Russell wanted your mom,” I said bluntly, my voice low. “He wanted a family that wasn’t his. They worked together to take you from me. They made me look like a monster so they could have everything they wanted.”

Her lips pressed tight, trembling. “I found the box,” she whispered. “The letters. All opened. Birthday cards… Christmas… everything.”

My chest constricted so hard I thought it might cave in. “You found them?”

She nodded, tears forming. “I thought I was crazy at first. That maybe I remembered wrong. But you said in one letter you’d never stop writing. And there were dozens. All hidden in the attic.”

My vision blurred with tears. “They stole ten years from us, Lily. Ten years where you thought I didn’t care. But I did. I never gave up on you.”

She squeezed my hand again, and this time, she didn’t let go.

Before I could say more, the curtain pulled back and a doctor entered. Middle-aged, glasses slipping down his nose, his badge read Dr. Stevens. He gave Lily a warm smile.

“How’s our patient today?” he asked, checking her monitors.

“I’m okay,” she said quietly.

He glanced at me, then back at her. “We’ve run all the tests. You’ve got a concussion, a broken arm, some bruises. But you’re lucky—it could’ve been much worse.”

“Who was driving?” I asked, already knowing but needing to hear it.

Lily’s eyes darted to the floor. “Russell,” she said finally. Her voice cracked. “He was mad. Driving too fast. He’d been drinking.”

The doctor’s expression tightened, but he stayed professional. “We’ve noted that in the chart. There are… concerns about the home situation. CPS has been notified.” His gaze flicked to me with meaning.

I nodded slowly. “Thank you, doctor.”

When he left, the room felt heavier. Lily fiddled with her blanket.

“Did he hurt you, Lily?” I asked gently.

Her eyes welled up. She pushed up her sleeve, revealing fading yellow bruises along her arm. “It wasn’t the first time,” she whispered.

Every muscle in my body locked. Rage burned hot in my chest, but I forced myself to stay calm. She needed me steady, not explosive.

“Listen to me,” I said, leaning close. “That ends now. I’m here. I won’t let him touch you again.”

A knock interrupted us. The nurse poked her head in. “Mr. Carter? There’s a social worker here to speak with you.”

My heart sank. I knew what this was.

A young woman in a blazer entered, tablet in hand. She introduced herself with a warm smile. “Amber Wilson, Child Protective Services. I understand you’re Lily’s father?”

“Yes,” I said. “Biological father. The hospital called me as her emergency contact.”

Amber nodded. “We need to talk about Lily’s situation. She’s disclosed some things to medical staff. I’ll also need to know more about your circumstances.”

We stepped into the hallway while Lily rested.

Amber’s questions came steady: where I lived, what I did for work, if I had space for Lily in my home. I told her everything—my IT job, my apartment, the spare bedroom ready for her. That I’d been shut out for ten years by lies, but never stopped trying.

She listened carefully, making notes. “We’ll need to verify some of this, but given the circumstances, there’s a possibility Lily may be placed with you temporarily while we investigate further.”

The words hit me like oxygen after drowning.

But before relief could sink in, Russell’s voice thundered down the hall.

“There he is! Lying again, just like always.”

He lumbered toward us, face red, Denise right behind him. “This man is harassing us, manipulating Lily. You can’t believe a word he says!”

Amber held up her hand calmly. “Sir, please lower your voice. I’ll be speaking with everyone involved. Right now, I’m gathering information.”

Denise jumped in, her voice dripping with venom. “He’s dangerous. He hasn’t been in her life for ten years. She’s confused. She belongs with us.”

I took a slow breath, forcing myself not to rise to their bait. “Lily asked for me,” I said simply.

Amber looked at all of us, her eyes sharp behind her glasses. “The priority is Lily’s safety. I’ll be making a recommendation soon.”

Russell sneered, stepping close enough that I could smell stale coffee and cigarettes on his breath. “You think you’re getting her back? Think again. Nobody believed you ten years ago. Nobody will believe you now.”

For the first time, though, I saw something flicker in his eyes. Fear.

Because this time, he wasn’t in control.

Part Five

The courthouse hadn’t changed in ten years.
Same gray stone steps, same heavy wooden doors, same cold air that smelled faintly of dust and old paper. The last time I’d walked out of this place, I was a broken man stripped of my daughter. Walking back inside now with Lily at my side felt like stepping into a battlefield where I’d already lost once.

She was dressed in a simple blue blouse and black pants we’d picked out together—nothing flashy, but mature enough that she didn’t look like a child. Sixteen, but older in her eyes, older from everything she’d endured.

Steven met us in the lobby, his briefcase in one hand and a calm smile on his face. “Morning. You must be Lily.”

She gave a small, nervous nod. “Hi.”

“You’ll do fine,” Steven reassured her. “Just tell the truth. That’s all you have to do.”

In the courtroom, Denise and Russell were already seated at their table with their lawyer—a sharp woman in a tailored suit who looked like she could slice steel with her tone of voice. Denise wore a conservative dress, hair pulled back tight. Russell, cleaned up in a suit and tie, sat stiffly with a bandage still visible on his forehead from the crash. He looked like a man trying desperately to appear respectable.

The judge entered. Gray hair, stern face, voice steady as he called the session to order. “This is a review of the temporary custody arrangement of Lily Carter and the emergency petition filed by Mrs. Denise Wilson and Mr. Russell Peterson.”

The opposing lawyer went first. She rose with practiced grace, her voice smooth as silk.

“Your honor, my clients have raised Lily since she was six years old. They have provided stability, education, and love. Now, after ten years of absence, Mr. Carter has suddenly reappeared, exploiting an unfortunate car accident to manipulate this young girl into turning against the only parents she’s truly known.”

Every word made my blood boil.

She held up the old custody ruling like it was a smoking gun. “Ten years ago, the court deemed Mr. Carter unfit. That record has not changed. What has changed is his sudden attempt to alienate Lily from the people who’ve raised her.”

Denise dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, looking the perfect picture of a heartbroken mother. Russell nodded solemnly, jaw tight, playing his role.

Then it was Steven’s turn. He stood slowly, buttoning his jacket.

“Your honor, the facts are far different from what opposing counsel suggests. Lily Carter was hospitalized following a car accident in which her stepfather, Mr. Peterson, was driving under the influence. Medical staff documented bruises inconsistent with the accident—bruises Lily disclosed were from physical abuse. Child Protective Services investigated and deemed it unsafe for her to return to that home. That’s why she was placed with her father.”

He laid out the evidence one piece at a time. Hospital records. CPS reports. Photos of Lily’s bruises. Statements from doctors. Then, the letters.

“These letters, your honor, were discovered by Lily months before the accident—hidden in her mother’s attic. They prove Mr. Carter never abandoned her. They prove she was lied to for years.”

He handed them to the judge. The courtroom was silent except for the shuffle of paper as the judge skimmed through birthday cards, Christmas letters, notes of love never delivered.

“And finally,” Steven continued, “we have a sworn statement from Emma Reynolds, Lily’s best friend, who witnessed Mr. Peterson’s aggression firsthand. She confirms Lily showed her bruises. She confirms Lily confided in her about the abuse. This is not manipulation. This is truth finally being heard.”

For the first time, I saw Denise shift uncomfortably. Russell’s jaw worked as if he were chewing rocks.

The judge leaned back. His eyes moved from me to Denise to Russell. Then he turned to Lily.

“Lily, I’d like to speak with you privately in my chambers.”

Her eyes widened. She looked at me, fear etched across her face. I leaned close and whispered, “Just tell the truth, sweetheart. That’s all you need to do.”

She nodded and followed the bailiff out.

The silence that followed was suffocating. Denise glared at me like I’d stolen her soul. Russell sat stone-faced, but I saw his foot tapping under the table.

Minutes crawled by before Lily returned, eyes red, face pale. She sat beside me, and I reached for her hand. She gripped it like a lifeline.

The judge cleared his throat. “I’ve reviewed the evidence and spoken with Lily directly. It’s my ruling that the emergency petition filed by Mrs. Wilson and Mr. Peterson is without merit. Temporary custody will remain with Mr. Carter pending a full review.”

My chest loosened like a hundred-pound weight had been lifted. Denise gasped. Russell slammed his palm against the table.

“And furthermore,” the judge added sharply, “based on evidence and testimony, I am referring this case to the district attorney for review of possible charges against Mr. Peterson for child abuse and endangerment.”

Russell shot to his feet, face blazing red. “This is a setup! She’s lying—he’s manipulating her just like before!”

“Mr. Peterson!” the judge barked. “Sit down, or I’ll hold you in contempt.”

But Russell wasn’t done. He sneered, voice rising, words spilling out without control.

“You want the truth? Fine. We did what we had to do back then. He was gonna take her from us. We couldn’t let that happen. So what if we—”

Denise whipped her head toward him, horror flooding her face. “Russell, stop!” she hissed.

The judge’s eyes narrowed. “Are you admitting that false testimony was presented in the original custody case?”

Russell froze, realizing too late what he’d just said. His lawyer buried her face in her hands. Denise sat rigid, trembling.

The courtroom erupted.

The judge pounded his gavel until silence fell. “This matter will be investigated fully. For now, Lily remains with her father. Court adjourned.”

The sound of that gavel echoed like salvation.

Lily leaned against me as we walked out of the courtroom, her small smile cutting through the chaos. “We did it,” she whispered.

I put my arm around her shoulders, my chest tight with emotion. “No, sweetheart. You did it. You told the truth.”

For the first time in ten years, I felt hope. Real hope.

Part Six

Walking out of that courtroom felt like walking into sunlight after a decade underground. Lily clung to my side as we passed through the courthouse doors. Outside, the afternoon was bright and warm, but for me it was more than just weather—it felt like the first day of freedom.

Steven caught up to us, a rare smile on his face. “That went about as well as we could’ve hoped,” he said. “Russell handed us everything on a silver platter. His outburst, the implied admission—it’s going to haunt him.”

“What happens now?” I asked.

“Now we file for permanent custody,” Steven said, adjusting his briefcase strap. “Given today, I’d say our chances are excellent. And with the DA involved, Russell has bigger problems than custody.”

I nodded, still trying to take it in. Ten years of lies, and for the first time the tide had turned.

As we headed toward the parking lot, I noticed Denise standing alone by the fountain. Her lawyer was gone. Russell had stormed off, probably to vent his fury on someone else. She looked smaller than I remembered, fragile, as if years of venom had finally caught up with her.

“Wait here with Steven,” I told Lily.

She gave me a nervous look but nodded.

I walked over to Denise. Her eyes were red, her hands twisting together.

“What do you want?” she asked, voice low, weary.

“I want to know why,” I said simply. “Why you did it. We could’ve shared custody. We could’ve both been in her life.”

She looked away, jaw tightening. “Russell convinced me you’d turn her against me. That if you had even a shred of custody, you’d poison her. After a while, I started believing it.”

“That wasn’t a good enough reason to destroy someone’s life,” I said. “To lie to your daughter for ten years.”

Her shoulders sagged. “I know. I know that now.”

There was nothing left to say. I turned to walk away, but she called after me.

“Mike… take care of her better than I did.”

I didn’t answer. Just gave a single nod and walked back to Lily.

The weeks that followed were a whirlwind. The district attorney pressed charges against Russell for child endangerment and DUI. The perjury angle from ten years ago was harder to prosecute, but it hung over him like a shadow. Eventually, he took a plea deal—probation, community service, mandatory counseling. It wasn’t as much as I thought he deserved, but it was a start.

Denise filed for divorce not long after. For once, she didn’t fight me. She didn’t contest my petition for permanent custody either. Maybe she was tired of the lies. Maybe she saw the damage she’d done.

Lily moved fully into my apartment. We painted her room together, a soft green she picked out herself. She joined an online school program to finish the year and started talking about photography projects. Emma came over on weekends, the two girls laughing late into the night like normal teenagers.

For the first time, I got to be part of her everyday life. Making breakfast together. Arguing about homework. Watching bad movies on the couch. All the little things I’d missed for ten years.

One night, as we ate dinner at the small table, Lily set down her fork.

“Dad,” she said, her voice tentative. “Mom called me yesterday.”

I stiffened, bracing for bad news. “What did she say?”

“She apologized,” Lily whispered. “For lying to me. For staying with Russell. For everything.” Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t know how to feel about it. Part of me is still so angry, but… part of me wants to forgive her.”

I reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “That’s your choice to make. She’s still your mom. People make mistakes. Big ones. But forgiveness—it’s about you, not her.”

She nodded slowly. “Maybe someday.”

Two months later, we stood in front of Judge Harrington again.

He looked at me, then at Lily, who sat proudly at my side. “After reviewing the evidence, the testimony, and the recommendations from Child Protective Services, I am granting permanent custody of Lily Carter to her father, Michael Carter. Mrs. Wilson will have visitation rights, beginning with supervised visits.”

I felt Lily’s hand slip into mine. She squeezed tight, and I squeezed back.

We walked out of that courthouse together, not as strangers separated by lies, but as father and daughter finally reunited.

Life didn’t become perfect overnight. Denise was still part of Lily’s world, cautiously, through supervised visits. Russell faded into obscurity, buried under his probation terms and divorce papers. But Lily flourished.

She started at her new school in the fall, joined the photography club, and made new friends. She laughed more, slept easier, dreamed bigger.

One evening, I came home to find her at the dining table, papers and photos spread everywhere.

“What’s all this?” I asked.

“My art project,” she said. “It’s about memory and perspective. See?” She pointed to a timeline she’d laid out—baby pictures, toddler years, elementary school. Then a huge gap. Then new photos of us together.

“And here,” she added, sliding over a stack of my old letters. “The missing years. Not really missing. Just hidden.”

My throat tightened as I looked at it. A story of loss and reunion, told through pictures and words.

“That’s powerful, sweetheart,” I said softly.

She gave me a shy smile. “I’m thinking about entering it in the school art show.”

“You should,” I said. “It’s perfect.”

That night, as she went to bed, she stopped in the hallway.

“Dad?” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for not giving up on me.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Never did. Never will.”

She smiled and disappeared into her room.

And for the first time in a decade, I believed it—really believed it. The nightmare was over.

I had my daughter back.

THE END