### PART 2
The phone rang four times before a sharp, familiar voice finally answered.
“Arthur Vance.”
My breath caught as I held Maya against my chest, her tiny fingers still gripping the lapel of my jacket. Nine years had passed since I walked away from my brother Arthur, the family real estate empire, and the endless corporate battles that had drained my spirit.
“Arthur,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “It’s Julian.”
Three long seconds of silence followed.
“Julian?” The sharpness disappeared from Arthur’s voice, replaced by quiet disbelief. “Where are you? It’s been nine years.”
“I’m in a county child placement center in Colfax,” I said, staring at the second page of Maya’s file. “I’m holding a fourteen-month-old girl with Down syndrome. Her biological mother’s maiden name on this intake sheet… it’s Evelyn Vance.”
Arthur gasped. “Evelyn? Our late sister Evelyn?”
“She passed away in a Denver hospital fourteen months ago,” I said, tears clouding my vision as I put the heartbreaking timeline together. “She had a baby girl, Arthur. Evelyn was alone and terrified, and she kept the pregnancy secret because of the family feud. The state placed Maya into foster care because there was no legal relative listed.”
“My God, Julian…” Arthur whispered. “Twenty families refused her?”
“Twenty,” I rasped. “She’s spent more than a year in a group home while our family was busy fighting over commercial real estate.”
“What do you need me to do?” Arthur asked, his voice immediately taking on the tone of the powerful, brilliant attorney I remembered.
“I’m adopting her,” I said without the slightest hesitation. “Right now. I need you to pull together every legal resource, clear the state emergency guardianship protocols, and fax the expedited family placement papers to this office within ten minutes.”
“Consider it done,” Arthur said firmly. “I’m getting in my car right now. I’ll be in Colfax by noon.”
I ended the call and slid the folder back across the desk.
The social worker stared at me in shock. “Did you just say your name is Vance? As in… the biological family listed on the sealed maternal records?”
“I am her uncle,” I said, taking a pen from the holder on the desk. “And I’m taking my niece home.”
Three minutes later, the paperwork arrived. I completed the emergency guardianship and adoption intent forms in under four minutes, signing my name with quick, unwavering precision.
Maya looked up at me, her dark, bright eyes meeting mine, and released a soft, sweet babble before resting her head against my shoulder.
