she said. I asked her biological father why he hadn’t called my wife or taken her to get medical attention. He just shrugged and said she was being “dramatic”—as if a kid in obvious pain was just putting on a show.My stepdaughter looked at me with watery eyes and quietly said she wanted to go home. That was all I needed to hear. I turned to him and said,

“This is exactly why I’m her real dad—not you.”nI took her straight to the emergency room, and we were there until nearly 1 a.m. X-rays confirmed what I already suspected—her arm was broken. Seeing her in pain, knowing someone who was supposed to care for her brushed it off like it was nothing, broke my heart. But in that moment, I also felt a deep sense of purpose. No matter what, she knows I’ll always show up. Always.