THE DYING LITTLE GIRL ASKED A MILLIONAIRE TO BE HER DAD—THEN HE DISCOVERED SHE WAS HIS DAUGHTER ALL ALONG

streaked with premature silver. Her face was thinner. Her body still.

But Maxwell would have known her anywhere.

His breath caught.

Emily stood frozen.

“She looks like me,” she whispered.

“Yes,” Maxwell said, tears burning behind his eyes. “She does.”

Slowly, Emily approached the bed.

“Hi, Mom,” she said. “I’m Emily. I’m your daughter.”

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