I sat at the kitchen table with tears running down my face. Liam peeked over my shoulder, reading along. “Mom,” he whispered, “it’s from Daisy’s first dad.”

We both hugged Daisy tight that night. She wagged her tail, not understanding the words but sensing our emotions. I tucked the letter into a drawer, but the words stayed with me.

The next day, I couldn’t stop thinking about the man. How had he gotten the letter to us? Was he nearby, watching from a distance just to make sure Daisy was safe?

I asked around the neighborhood, but no one had seen him. The grocery store clerk remembered him sitting outside sometimes but said he hadn’t been around lately. I even drove around town, scanning parks and shelters, hoping to spot his worn blanket or tired face. Nothing.

Weeks passed, and I began to wonder if I’d ever see him again.

One Saturday, Liam and I took Daisy to the park. She ran across the grass with newfound energy, chasing after Liam’s ball. As I watched them, my eyes caught a familiar figure sitting on a bench under a bare tree. The blanket was gone, replaced by a donated coat. His beard was trimmed, and though his face was still weary, his eyes looked a little brighter.

It was him.

I walked over, heart pounding. “Excuse me… we met about a month ago. You gave us Daisy.”

He looked up slowly, recognition dawning in his eyes. A small smile tugged at his lips. “I remember.”