Noah, a 14-year-old, was doing his best trying to mediate conflicts between the younger kids in the playground of the orphanage, just as he did with the advised group of learners in the basketball field. His attention was drawn towards some of the younger kids, between 6 to 8 years old, who were going ham on the sand field. The kids were fighting over a shovel that had been donated by a kind gentleman, and they were arguing about whether to build a moat or to build a castle.
Noah just smiled and advised them to do both. He told them that the shovel would be more important for the moat because that would need a lot more volume of sand. So he suggested, "Why don't you dig out the moats first so you can accumulate enough sand which can then be used to build the castle?"
He smiled as the kids agreed, and then he moved on. It was one mess of a dispute settled.
But before he could get far, he heard Miss Chen calling him. Apparsntly a social worker was here to see him. Miss Chen was the matron of the orphanage—she was like a director for every single kid there. Being called up by her always meant both good and bad news—it could go either way.
When Noah sat across from Miss Chen, she gave him the good news—he was going to be adopted.
When he asked who and by whom, she told him it was Mitchell and Cameron Tucker. Noah remembered them immediately. They had met at a charity event about 5 months ago. It was a charity organized to help out orphanages in the United States of America. On behalf of the charity, most of the workers involved in the charity would actually be members of the orphanages in America.
Noah had met them at that charity event, and yes, they did have a good connection. Maybe that's when they realized they wanted to adopt him and started the papers.
But since then, a lot had changed. A month after that charity event, Noah's orphanage had closed because of certain unsavory situations—situations which Noah was primarily involved in. So he did not know that his eligibility for adoption was still available, to be honest.
The news hit him like a wave—hope and disbelief crashing together. Mitchell and Cameron. He remembered their warmth, their laughter, the way they'd actually listened to him talk about his life, his dreams. But that was before everything fell apart. Before the orphanage closed. Before whatever had happened that he'd been caught up in.
Noah looked at Miss Chen, questions flooding his mind. How was this even possible? Did they know about what happened? And most importantly—did they still want him, knowing everything?
Noah looked at Miss Chen with questions flooding his eyes, and she answered before he could even ask them.
She told him that Mitchell and Cameron were aware of what had transpired. But they were still steadfast in their decision. And they were even more glad of the decision after knowing what had actually happened. They genuinely wanted to give him a home with family, and a home to look forward to.
Noah felt his throat tighten. Of all the things he'd expected to hear, that wasn't it. Most people ran when they heard about the orphanage closure, about the "situations" that led to it. Most people didn't want complications or a kid with baggage. But Mitchell and Cameron... they knew. They knew everything, and they still wanted him. Not in spite of what happened, but—somehow—it made them want him more.
"They... they really said that?" Noah's voice came out smaller than he intended, barely above a whisper.
Miss Chen's expression softened, and for the first time in the conversation, she allowed herself a genuine smile. "They did, Noah. They want you to have a real home. A family."
Noah sat back in the chair, trying to process it all. America. A family. Mitchell and Cameron. A home to look forward to. After everything that had happened, after all the uncertainty and chaos of the past few months—this felt almost too good to be true.
"When?" he finally managed to ask.
They actually just adopted a little girl from Vietnam - Lily. A few days ago, actually."
His stomach dropped. "Wait, they applied for me and went to Vietnam for a baby?"
Ms. Chen leaned forward, her smile widening. "Here's the interesting part. They applied for you first, but were told it was unlikely to go through - something about processing delays and eligibility questions. They didn't think they'd be approved for a domestic adoption, so they pursued international adoption instead. They just brought Lily home from Vietnam a
"Today morning" "And now?"
"And now the system surprised everyone. Your approval came through this morning. They have no idea." Ms. Chen actually laughed. "I called them an hour ago. Mitchell apparently dropped the phone. Cameron cried. They thought adopting you was a closed door."
Noah's throat felt tight. "So they just got a baby, and now they're getting a fourteen-year-old they didn't think they'd ever actually get?"
"They applied for you specifically after meeting you at that charity event last spring. Do you remember? When they were told it wouldn't happen, they were heartbroken. This is... well, it's a miracle for them."
"Did someone check if they're actually ready for this?" Noah asked. "That's a baby and a teenager in the same day."
Ms. Chen's expression softened. "They're waiting outside, actually. They want to take you home today if you're ready. Cameron said, and I quote, 'We've been ready for Noah since the day we met him.'"
Ready. As if anyone was ever ready for their entire life to change
"I want to talk to them," Noah said suddenly. "Before the final paperwork goes through."
Ms. Chen nodded, unsurprised. "Of course. That's completely reasonable. I'll give you some privacy."
The walk down the hallway to the waiting room felt longer than it should have. Noah's sneakers squeaked against the linoleum, each step feeling heavier than the last. His heart hammered against his ribs. Through the small window in the door, he could see them - Cameron, tall and broad-shouldered, bouncing slightly on his feet with nervous energy. Mitchell, more contained but gripping his husband's hand tight enough that his knuckles were white.
Noah pushed open the door.
They both turned immediately, their faces lighting up in a way that made Noah's chest ache. But the words he'd planned - the casual greeting, the cool demeanor - all evaporated. He stood there, fourteen years old and suddenly unsure, staring at two men who looked at him like he mattered.
What was he supposed to ask? Why me? Are you sure? What if this doesn't work?
But then it hit him - this was the turning moment. Everything in his life could change based on the next sixty seconds. He deserved honesty. They deserved honesty.