The airport is packed on this Friday morning, with the line for security snaking across the terminal.

“I hope we don’t miss the flight,” Elsa tells Brett as they wrestle their bags another couple of feet forward.

“The line’s moving fast. Here, Renny, let me take your bag.”

“No, I’ve got it.” She wheels her small Vuitton suitcase—a gift from Maman, of course, in honor of this long-awaited trip—and anxiously asks, “What if the plane leaves without us?”

“It won’t, I promise.”

“But you just said it might,” she reminds Elsa, who smiles and shakes her head.

“You don’t miss a trick, do you?”

“Nope. And I been waiting for this day for so long.”

Brett rests a hand on Renny’s shoulder. “We all have.”

Fifteen minutes later, they reach the head of the line. The security guard is jovial as Brett hands him their three IDs.

“Let’s see…we have Brett Cavalon, Elsa Cavalon, and…” He looks down. “Renata Cavalon. Is that your name?”

“No.” She shakes her head fervently, and he raises an eyebrow.

Elsa and Brett look at each other.

“Sweetie,” Elsa says, “it is now, remember? The adoption? You’re a Cavalon now.”

“But I’m not Renata. It’s Renny,” she informs the security guard, who grins and hands back the documents.

“All right, Renny Cavalon. You have a good trip. Where are you going?”

“To Disney World!”

As they make their way toward the gate, she gallops along pulling her little bag, singing her favorite Ariel song.

The one about becoming part of your world, Elsa thinks.

Renny still isn’t sick of the song, or of The Little Mermaid.

And I’m not, either, thinks Elsa, who often goes around singing the poignant lyrics herself. So does Brett.

“It’s like our family theme song,” he comments now, as he and Elsa pull the luggage along toward the gate, just up ahead.

“They’re here!” Renny breaks off to announce excitedly. “Can I run ahead?”

Elsa hesitates. This is a public place, and there are so many strangers…

“Just be careful,” she tells Renny, who breaks into a happy run.

“Good job, Mom.” Brett nods his approval.

“What?”

“Letting go.”

“I’m learning,” she says with a smile. “And anyway, look—they see her coming.”

She points toward the gate, where the rest of the family are waiting for Renny to reach them.

Jeremy, Marin, Caroline, Annie.

The Cavalons and the Quinns may not be technically related, but they’ve come to think of one another that way these past few months, with Jeremy as the bridge between them.

Anyway, no one knows better than Elsa that blood doesn’t create a familial bond.

Love does.