Chapter 7: Emma Becomes a Second Mom

Her eyes drifted to her sketchbook, and she reached for it, flipping through pages until she found the drawing of Sophia asleep on her lap on the bus—her small form curled up, peaceful and safe.

Emma traced her fingers lightly over the pencil lines, her chest tightening. It had been the first day of the camping trip. She had barely stepped onto the Troop 117 bus when Sophie, a tiny wisp of a girl, had suddenly climbed into her lap and fallen asleep—as if it were the most natural thing in the world—but it wasn’t.

Sophie was autistic. She was touch averse, something Emma didn’t realize at the time, but everyone else on the bus ... they had.

The other girls had stared in shock, some of the troop mothers whispered to each other in disbelief. Even Rebecca Carter, the den mother and bus driver, had gone quiet, watching the moment unfold like it was impossible. Yet, Sophie had just settled in, her tiny hands gripping Emma’s shirt, her body completely relaxed.

Emma hadn’t understood the weight of it back then, but she did now. Sophie had trusted her in a way she trusted almost no one else and right now, after everything that had happened, Emma needed that feeling again.

She grabbed her phone and quickly dialed. A moment later, a warm voice answered, “Hello?”

Emma swallowed. “Hi, Mrs. Carter, it’s Emma. Would it be okay if I came by for a little bit?”

Lauren didn’t even hesitate. “Of course, sweetheart. Sophie would love to see you.”

Relief flooded Emma’s chest. “Thank you.”

She turned to Katie. “Can you take me to Sophie’s?”

Katie raised a brow but didn’t question it. “Yeah, sure.”

Emma tucked the sketchpad under her arm, grabbing her purse, and headed for the door. She needed this. She needed Sophie.

Katie pulled into the driveway. Before the car even came to a full stop, the front door swung open, and Lauren and Sophie stepped outside. Emma barely had time to react before Sophie bolted toward her, her little feet pounding against the pavement.

Emma opened the car door quickly, stepping out just in time to catch Sophie as she leaped into her arms. Careful not to bend the sketchbook tucked under her arm, Emma wrapped Sophie in a gentle embrace, lifting her with ease.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Emma murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Sophie’s cheek. Sophie clung tightly, burying her face in Emma’s neck. As Emma adjusted her hold, she walked around to the driver’s side where Lauren was waiting, a soft smile on her lips.

Lauren sighed, watching her daughter with a knowing look. “As soon as I told her you were coming, she stopped everything she was doing.”

Emma raised a curious brow. “Stopped what?”

“She was sitting on the couch, playing a game on her phone.” Lauren folded her arms, her voice carrying a hint of emotion. “She looked down at the bracelet you made for her—you know the one with your hair woven into it? Then she put the phone down, walked to the door, and she’s been watching for you ever since.”

Emma swallowed the lump in her throat, her arms tightened around Sophie instinctively. She knew what that meant. Before she could find the right words, Katie got out of the car, closing the door behind her.

She wasn’t about to leave Emma alone—not when she had been so angry and hurt earlier that morning. Lauren gave her a small nod, understanding immediately. “Come on in, girls.”

The moment they stepped inside, Emma set Sophie down. Sophie refused to let go of Emma’s hand and led her straight to the couch. Emma settled onto the cushions and Sophie sat beside her, watching her closely as if afraid she might disappear.

Emma smiled softly and held out the sketchbook. “I brought you something.”

Sophie’s eyes widened as Emma carefully removed the page—the sketch of Sophie sleeping in Emma’s lap on the bus. Emma signed the bottom right corner in her neat hand writing.

“Happy early birthday, sweetheart,” Emma told her.

Sophie took the sketch with delicate fingers, staring at it for a long moment. Then, without a word, she placed it gently on the coffee table, turned back to Emma—and threw her arms around her neck, bursting into tears.

“Thank you, Emma.” Her voice was muffled, her little body shaking with emotions. Emma closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around Sophie again, holding her tightly as she cried.

Lauren wiped her own eyes as she reached down, picking up the sketch. She turned it over carefully, her breath hitching as she took it in. Katie leaned in, curious. “That’s incredible,” she murmured.

Lauren nodded, then pulled out her phone. “Rebecca sent me something during that camping trip.” She tapped on her screen a few times, then held it out for Katie to see—a photo from the camping trip, taken at the exact moment Sophie curled up in Emma’s lap.

Katie exhaled, shaking her head in disbelief. “That’s ... wow.”

Lauren wiped her eyes, letting out a watery chuckle. “It still amazes me.”

She glances over at Sophie, who was still curled up beside Emma, holding onto her arm. “You know, Katie’s been babysitting Sophie for two years ... and Sophie won’t even let her touch her.”

Katie blinked, looking at Sophie, then at Emma. “She really won’t.” It hit her all at once—how impossible this moment truly was. Emma wasn’t just someone Sophie liked—she was someone Sophie trusted in a way she trusted almost no one else.

Katie let out a low breath. “Emma, I don’t think you realize just how much you mean to her.”

Lauren nodded. “She not just attached to you, sweetheart. She needs you.” Emma swallowed hard, her throat tightening as she looked down at Sophie, who was still clutching her hand, and suddenly, Emma felt more grounded than she had in hours.

Sophie needed her and right now ... that was good enough.

“Sweetheart, hold up your sketch so I can take a picture for Aunt Rebecca,” Lauren instructed.

Sophie sniffled, nodded quickly. She reached for the drawing, holding it up proudly. Lauren snapped a few pictures, sending one off to Rebecca. Moments later, Sophie’s phone dinged with a text. She glanced at it, then grinned, squeezing Emma’s hand. “Come see my room.”

Emma smiled, standing up as Sophie pulled her excitedly down the hall and for the time that day, Emma felt okay.

Sophie led Emma down the hall, her small hand still wrapped around Emma’s fingers. When they reached her bedroom, Sophie pushed the door open eagerly, revealing a truly girly space that was uniquely hers. The room, painted in muted colors, had a calming effect. I was amazed at the level of organization—clear, plastic containers held small items, the rest was neatly placed on shelves and in drawers. The room was clean and dust-free—a true sign of Sophie’s autistic behavior, which could be Obsessive Compulsive Behavior, but Emma didn’t know Sophie well enough to make that assumption.

A soft rose-colored comforter with the top folded back just below the pillow covered her twin-sized bed. The color blended well with the soft pink of the walls where several posters and framed pictures hung to fill the otherwise empty space.

One corner of the room housed a decent-sized corner desk with an Alienware desktop and a stand holding three monitors. Emma was greatly impressed with the computer setup and more than a bit jealous.

On the wall across from the foot of the bed hung a large TV. Below it was a small table with Nintendo Switch and a PlayStation 5. Under the table, a small shelf held many games for the systems, sorted alphabetically by genre.

In the corner above the computer desk was a net filled with stuffed animals except for a single unicorn in pride of place on the bed, which Emma assumed was Sophie’s favorite that she slept with each night.

Along the same wall where the headboard of herbed touched but in the corner opposite of the computer desk sat a pink bean bag. Sitting on top of it, neatly folded, was a tightly crocheted blanket.

Sophie pointed at the bean bag. “That is my safe place. When I need to getaway from people, I come here. I curl up on the bean bag and hide under the blanket. It was crocheted by my great grandmother on my mother’s side. Mom said it is over one hundred years old. It smells like it, too, even though it has been washed many times.”

Pointing at the TV next, she said, “The TV is a fifty-inch 4k Ultra HD.” Then pointing at the computer desk, she said, “The computer is the most powerful machine I could configure and the three monitors are thirty-two-inch 1080p HD monitors. This room is my sanctuary—my safe place. Other than Mom, you are the only person I have invited into my room. I haven’t invited your sister in here. I don’t feel the same around her as I do with you.”

Emma kneeled down to be better able to look Sophie in the eyes. “This is an amazing room, Sophie, and I must admit, I am jealous. My TV is only twenty-seven inches and my computer is just a laptop I got from Best Buy. It works well for what I use it for but it doesn’t even compare to the monster sitting on your desk.”

Sophie turned and looked at her bean bag then at Emma. “Emma, would you do something for me?”

Still kneeling next to Sophie, Emma replied, “Sure, what would you like me to do?”

“I desire physical contact, but you know how I react when people touch me. Would you mind sitting on the beanbag in your bra and panties and allow me to sit in your lap while you read to me?” Sophie asked, her expression full of expectation.

“I wouldn’t mind reading to you, baby girl, but does it have to be in my underwear?” Emma asked, feeling nervous about her request.

“Yes, please. I want to feel skin-on-skin contact with you. Please, Emma? You are the only person I can stand to touch me and I trust you,” Sophie explained.

When Sophie made her request—for Emma to sit in just her bra and panties—Emma felt her stomach tighten. Her first instinct was to refuse. Not because she didn’t love Sophie—she did—more than she ever expected to love anyone outside her family, but this was different.

It was one thing to wear dresses and present as a girl in public, but this? This felt dangerously intimate. Not in a romantic or sexual way, but in a way that made Emma painfully aware of her own body. Of the part that didn’t belong.

Sophie didn’t know the truth and Emma wasn’t ready for her to know. Would she notice something was off? Would she ask questions? What if she realized Emma wasn’t ... complete?

She swallowed hard, pushing those fears aside. Sophie wasn’t asking for something inappropriate—she was asking for comfort. Real, genuine comfort in the only way she could tolerate.

Sophie had even thought of Emma’s boundaries. She didn’t ask for Emma to be naked as Sophie usually was. She respected Emma’s limits. That thought settled something inside her. This wasn’t about Emma’s insecurities. It was about Sophie’s trust. So, Emma forced herself to exhale the tension in her chest and nodded.

“Okay, but let me talk to your mom and Katie first,” Emma conceded. Emma left to return downstairs. Katie and Lauren were sitting on the couch talking and drinking iced tea.

“Lauren, Sophie asked me to sit on her beanbag and read her a story. I don’t have a problem with that. It’s the other part of the request I have a problem with,” Emma explained, wringing her hands nervously.

Lauren looked at Emma, a knowing smirk on her face. Katie watched curiously, not understanding what was causing Emma such distress. “Let me guess, she asked you to do it nude.”

“Not quite, but she did ask that I do it in my bra and panties,” Emma replied, her hands still clasped in front of her.

Lauren didn’t even hesitate when Emma asked about Sophie’s request. “Emma, if Sophie trusts you enough to make this request, then so do I.” That hit Emma hard. Lauren trusted her—completely. Emma barely trusted herself sometimes.

Her fingers curled slightly as her sides as she absorbed that. Would Lauren still trust her if she knew the truth? If she knew that under the smooth curves and soft voice, I was still ... something else?

Stop it, Emma. You are Emma, not Evan.

Lauren kept talking, explaining Sophie’s behaviors, her needs, how she usually curled up naked under the blanket—and Emma’s mind spun again. Could she really be what Sophie needed?

Her instinct was to pull away, to say it was too much, to retreat into the same fear and self-doubt that had followed her since the beginning of this journey, but then she thought of Sophie’s tiny hands clutching hers, her excitement, her absolute trust. Emma took a deep breath. She could do this. For Sophie.

Katie spoke up before Emma could respond. “I’m okay with that. Em, why don’t you just stay the night? I can bring a change of clothes when I come pick you up tomorrow.”

Emma took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering. “Okay, I’m sure Sophie would be excited to hear that.” When Emma returned to Sophie’s room to see her still standing in the same spot in the middle of the room but holding a book, she immediately noticed the well-worn paperback. The cover was faded, the spine creased from countless rereads. Emma recognized it instantly—the familiar illustration of Bilbo Baggins standing in front of his round green door.

“Sophie, I talked to your mom. She said you normally only sit on the beanbag naked. I thank you for trusting me enough to sit on the beanbag with you and for respecting my privacy by only requesting me in my bra and panties. I would love to hold you in my lap and read you a story,” Emma told her, a bright smile filling Sophie’s face.

“Oh! Thank you, Emma.” Sophie walked over to the beanbag, removed her clothes, and tossed them in her clothes basket.

Standing in Sophie’s room, Emma unzipped her dress and slid it off her shoulders letting it fall to the floor, Emma still felt that familiar tightness in her chest. Sophie kneeled next to Emma and took the dress in her hands. Emma stepped out of it. Sophie then tossed it in her clothes basket as well.

She wasn’t ashamed of her body. She wasn’t, but the fear never quite went away. Would it ever?

“There is more news I have to tell you.” Sophie looked expectantly at Emma. “Your mom asked me to spend the night.”

“Really!?” Sophie bounced on the balls of her tiny feet and clapped her hands in excitement. “That’s wonderful, Emma. Will you sleep in my bed and hold me? I would love to sleep in your arms.”

“I’ll have to talk to your mom about sleeping arrangements. She offered a nightgown but we haven’t talked about sleeping arrangements.”

Emma saw the disappointment in Sophie’s face. “We’ll worry about it later, baby girl. Let’s get situated on the beanbag and see what you chose to read.”

Sophie picked up the blanket and shook it out along the floor. It was bigger than Emma first thought and the pattern of greens and browns reminded Emma of being in nature surrounded by trees.

Sophie’s eye lit up as Emma sat down, as soon as Emma was comfortable, Sophie climbed into Emma’s lap situating her tiny body so that she was sideways. Her legs were to Emma’s right, her head was laying on Emma’s chest. Her right hand lay in her own lap while her left was on Emma’s stomach. Emma took the blanket and pulled it up to Sophie’s shoulders. As soon as they were covered, the fear went away ... for now.

As soon as they were settled, Sophie held up the book. “The Hobbit?” Emma asked, raising a brow. Sophie nodded eagerly, holding the book closer to her chest. “It’s my favorite. I like the adventure, the way Bilbo doesn’t think he’s brave, but he is.”

Emma smiled at that. She understood that concept very well. She had read The Hobbit before, but now, looking at Sophie, she saw it differently. “Good choice, baby girl,” Emma whispered, ruffling Sophie’s hair affectionately. “Let’s start from the beginning.”

Emma opened the book, the familiar pages soft and well-worn beneath her fingers. Sophie let out a tiny sigh, laying her head against Emma’s chest, completely at ease. Smiling, Emma began to read.

“In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or eat; it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.”

Sophie let out a small, contented hum as Emma’s melodic voice carried the words through the quiet room. As Emma continued reading, a quiet commotion by the door caught her attention. Without pausing in her recitation, she flicked her gaze toward the doorway.

Lauren and Katie stood there, both holding up their phones, recording the moment. Emma frowned slightly—not out of annoyance, but out of embarrassment. They’re really recording this? She supposed she should have expected this. She just wished she could cover her bra.

Sophie, however, didn’t react. She remained curled up in Emma’s arms, perfectly content, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. Shaking off the distraction, Emma refocused on the book, her voice steady and soothing as she read aloud.

Before she had finished a dozen pages, she felt the familiar shift of Sophie’s breathing—slow, deep, steady. A telltale sign—she’s asleep. Emma carefully glanced down and confirmed it. Sophie’s face was peaceful, her tiny fingers resting lightly against Emma’s stomach.

From the corner of her eye, Emma caught Lauren’s soft wave—keep going. Emma hesitated for only a second before returning to the book. If Sophie wanted to hear the story in her sleep, then that’s exactly what she’d get.

She finished the first chapter at a relaxed pace, her voice never breaking the warmth of the moment. By the time she closed the book, Lauren finally lowered her phone, stopping the recording.

“You can rest, too, if you want,” Lauren whispered. “Dinner won’t be ready for a couple of hours.”

Emma considered it. Now that she had stopped reading, the exhaustion of the day crept up on her. She nodded, scooting down the large beanbag slightly, shifting just enough to rest her head against the back. Carefully, she set the book aside, slipped her arms under the blanket, pulling it up around Sophie’s neck, and wrapped them gently around the tiny, sleeping figure in her lap.

Lauren smiled, snapping a few more pictures before quietly slipping out of the room, leaving them in peace. With a quiet sigh, Emma felt the tension from earlier that morning slip away along with her consciousness.

Downstairs, Lauren poured another glass of iced tea and handed one to Katie as they settled back onto the couch. The quiet hum of the house felt strangely peaceful after the emotional intensity of the afternoon—not to mention earlier this morning.

Katie took a sip before finally speaking. “You know, I’ve been babysitting Sophie for two years now and she still won’t let me touch her—at least, not without flinching.”

Lauren smiled, but there was a touch of melancholy behind it. “That’s not your fault. You’ve always respected her boundaries, and that’s more important than forcing closeness she isn’t ready for.”

Katie nodded. “I know. It’s just ... watching her with Emma, it’s like she becomes someone else. Softer. More open.”

Lauren’s gaze drifted toward the ceiling as if picturing the two of them upstairs.” It’s like Emma speaks a language only Sophie understands, or maybe the other way around.

“I used to think Sophie couldn’t connect with people, but she doesn’t just connect with Emma ... she clings to her.” Lauren’s expression softened. “She trusts Emma completely. That’s not something I’ve ever seen—not even with me.”

Katie looked at her. “Does it scare you?”

Lauren was quiet for a moment, then shook her head. “No. It reassures me. I don’t understand how or why, but I trust Emma, too, and I’m grateful she came into Sophie’s life.”

“They are good for each other,” Lauren muttered, as if reading Katie’s thoughts.

Katie nodded. “Yeah. They really are.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Katie checked the time and stood up. “I should get going,” she said, stretching. “Thanks for letting stay for a bit and letting Emma visit with Sophie.”

Lauren smiled warmly. “Anytime, Katie. Drive safe.”

Katie stepped outside into the warm evening air and headed to her car. Once she slid into the driver’s seat, she pulled out her phone and tapped out a quick message to Vivian.

Katie: Just watched something incredible. Took video and pictures of Emma reading to Sophie, an autistic, touch-averse child, until she fell asleep. You’re gonna cry. Will upload to Emma’s site when I get home.

Vivian: [a few seconds later] Can’t wait. Thank you. 💖

She sat there for a moment, scrolling through the pictures and video she had just taken. The sight of Emma and Sophie curled up together made her chest tighten in a way she couldn’t explain.

Katie smiled to herself as she started the car. She’d upload everything to Emma’s family site on the Johnson’s server when she got home. Emma would want to see it and so would Eric.

Lauren gently shook Emma’s shoulder, her voice soft. “Emma, dinner’s ready.”

Emma blinked awake, momentarily disoriented. Noticing Lauren standing beside her, she whispered. “I need something to wear. Sophie put my dress in the laundry.”

Lauren smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry about the dress. Come down as you are.”

A surge of anxiety washed over Emma. Go downstairs in just my bra and panties? Her mind raced with self-conscious thoughts about her body, but Lauren’s calm demeanor and the warmth of the household gave her a semblance of comfort. Taking a deep breath, she nodded reluctantly.

Turning her attention to Sophie, Emma gently roused her. “Hey, baby girl, time to wake up for dinner.”

Sophie stirred, rubbing her eyes before smiling up at Emma. “Wow, I slept so deeply, I didn’t even dream. Thank you, Emma,” Sophie told her. Together, they folded the blanket, Sophie meticulously smoothing out the edges before placing it back on the beanbag. Without hesitation, Sophie slipped her hand into Emma’s, leading her toward the stairs.

As they descended, Emma’s apprehension grew. I’m practically naked. However, Sophie’s unwavering trust and the normalcy with which she held Emma’s hand provided a strange sense that this wasn’t the first time for Sophie.

In the dining room, Lauren gestured to a seat beside Sophie’s booster. “Emma, why don’t you sit next to Sophie?”

Emma nodded, lifting Sophie into her booster seat. Throughout the meal, Emma found herself instinctively assisting Sophie—cutting her food into manageable pieces, guiding her fork, and occasionally wiping her mouth with a cloth napkin.

Lauren observed the interaction with a soft smile, noting the ease and tenderness between them. It was as if Sophie had found a kindred spirit in Emma, and Emma, despite her own uncertainties, had embraced a nurturing role with grace.

The dinner proceeded with light conversation, but the bond between Emma and Sophie spoke volumes, filling the room with a warmth that needed no words.

After dinner, Emma insisted on helping with the cleanup. “Let me handle the dishes, Lauren,” she offered, glancing at Sophie with a smile. “I’d love for Sophie to assist me.”

Lauren hesitated. “Oh, Emma, you’re our guest. You don’t have to—”

“Please,” Emma interjected gently. “I want to.”

Seeing the determination in Emma’s eyes, Lauren relented. “Alright. Thank you.”

Sophie beamed and hurried to fetch the step stool from the pantry, positioning it securely by the sink. Emma began scraping leftovers into the trash, while Sophie stoppered the sink and began to fill it with hot, soapy water.

The kitchen filled with the sounds of clinking dishes. Sophie, meticulous in her task, carefully rinsed each dish before setting them in the dish drainer. Emma washed diligently, occasionally glancing at Sophie with admiration for her dedication.

When Emma had washed the last dish, she went to tie up the trash bag. “I’ll take this out to the bins while you finish drying the dishes,” she said, momentarily forgetting her attire.

Stepping outside into the warm, humid evening air, Emma’s skin prickled slightly. The neighborhood was quiet, the sky painted black with tiny white dots all around it. She walked briskly to the trash bins beside the house. Emma peeked around the corner of the house before taking a deep breath and walking quickly the rest of the way to the trash bins. Emma knew she could be seen from the road here, she deposited the bag, and hurried back inside, the grass cool beneath her bare feet.

Upon re-entering the house, Lauren stood by the door, an amused glint in her eye. “Forget something, Emma?”

Emma glanced down, a flush creeping up her neck knowing she had forgotten she was just wearing her bra and panties. “Oh! I ... I guess I got so comfortable, I forgot I wasn’t dressed until I was already outside.”

Lauren chuckled softly. “No harm done. It’s just us girls here. Besides, there’s rarely any traffic in the cull-d-sac this late.”

Embarrassed, Emma murmured. “I’ll go put something on.”

Before she could move, Sophie called from the living room. “Emma! Come watch the movie with me!” Even though it was past Sophie’s bedtime, Lauren allowed her to stay up with Emma since it is so rare that Sophie had a friend over, or was Emma becoming more than a friend?

Peeking into the living room, Emma saw Sophie had already started “The Hobbit” and was standing beside the couch, waiting for Emma to take a seat.

With a reassuring nod from Lauren, Emma decided to join Sophie as she was. She settled onto the couch, and Sophie immediately climbed into her lap, nestling comfortably as they both turned their attention to the screen, the warmth of their shared moment enveloping them.

Long before the movie ended, Sophie had fallen asleep again. Lauren entered the living room, approaching the back of the couch where Emma sat. Leaning down, she whispered, “Take her to my bedroom. It has a bigger bed. I’ll sleep in her bed tonight.”

Emma nodded, carefully shifting to stand with Sophie cradled in her arms. Lauren followed her upstairs where the master bedroom awaited with the bed already turned down. Gently, Emma placed Sophie near the center of the bed, mindful of the weekend she slept with the Michaels girls.

Lauren gestured toward the master bathroom. “Strip and take a shower. I’ll leave a nightgown on the bed for you.”

Emma hesitated, aware of her own insecurities. Does Lauren know about me? Seeing no judgement in Lauren’s eyes, she nodded and stepped into the bathroom.

Stripping off her bra and panties, Emma let the warm water cascade over her, attempting to wash away her anxieties along with the day’s sweat. Emma checked for hair but was pleased to see she wasn’t ready for the painful torture of a waxing, yet.

After drying off, she noticed her undergarments were missing. Tucking herself back between her legs, she wrapped herself in a large fluffy towel. She brushed her teeth with the unopened toothbrush left on the counter for her and braided her damp hair.

Stepping out of the bathroom, cheeks burning at the thought of being naked in someone else’s house, she saw the nightgown laid out for her. It reached just to her knees but was thankfully more modest than the attire Cassie had previously loaned her. Slipping it on, she approached the bed where Sophie slept peacefully.

Climbing in beside her, Emma scooted closer, wrapping an arm around Sophie and pulling her gently into an embrace. The steady rhythm of Sophie’s breathing soon lulled Emma into a restful sleep.

The soft glow of early morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. Emma stirred beneath the covers, slowly returning to consciousness. Her limbs were still heavy from sleep, and the comforting weight of the blanket made her want to burrow deeper.

She cracked one eye open and nearly yelped. Sophie was lying beside her, eyes wide open, her tiny face just inches from Emma’s, watching her in complete silence.

Emma’s heart skipped a beat before recognition set in, and she let out a breathy laugh, brushing a strand of hair from Sophie’s face. “Good morning, baby girl,” she said softly, her voice still thick with sleep. “Did you sleep okay?”

Sophie gave a slow nod. “You smell like momma,” she muttered.

Emma smiled and reached over to gently tuck another strand of Sophie’s hair behind her ear. “That’s because I had to use your mom’s body wash last night.”

Sophie shifted closer, laying her head back on Emma’s shoulder. “I like waking up next to you.”

Emma’s chest tightened with emotion. She tightened her arm around Sophie, holding her closer. “I like it, too, baby girl.”

For the next few minutes, they just lay there together in the warmth of the morning, wrapped in quiet comfort and the bond they had grown to share.

Lauren knocked gently on the door before stepping in. “Alright, girls, time to getup. Breakfast is almost ready.”