I Adopted A Baby Abandoned At A Fire
Five years ago, during a stormy night at Fire Station #14,
firefighter Jake found a newborn abandoned at the door.
“His hand wrapped around my finger, and something changed inside me.”
Though the system called him Baby Boy Doe, Jake couldn’t stop thinking about him.
After months of paperwork and doubt, he finally adopted the baby—naming him Leo.
“Me and you, buddy. We’ve got this,” he whispered.
Life became joyful chaos—mismatched socks, bedtime stories, and cereal spills.
Then one evening, a knock shattered their peace. A pale, trembling woman stood outside.
“You have to give my child back,” she said. It was Leo’s birth mother, Emily.
She didn’t want to take him away, only to “see him… to know him.”
Jake was torn but cautious. Over time, Emily returned slowly—watching
Leo’s soccer games, bringing books, earning trust. Eventually, they found balance.
Years later, at Leo’s graduation, Emily whispered, “We did good.”
Jake smiled. “Yeah, we did.”
