She’d taken the SAT weeks ago and heard nothing. Felicia Villegas was starting to get nervous. An email arrived in early November from Zelda C. Ray and Meredith Head, who work in admissions at Kennesaw State University, but it was just an invitation to lunch to celebrate her birthday. Ah, well. At least it wasn’t bad news.

What Felicia didn’t know the day she met Zelda and Meredith at Canvas in Marietta is that she’d be celebrating more than her 21st birthday.

“We have a present for you,” Zelda said.

“You’ve been accepted to Kennesaw State for spring semester!” Meredith said, presenting her with a T-shirt and her acceptance letter. “You did it all on your own. Your test scores were phenomenal.”

Felicia kissed the letter and held it close for a moment, her eyes closed.

“Oh my God,” she said. “I’m shaking.”

She starts class Jan. 11.

It’s hard to put into words just how big this day was, how far Felicia has come. At 4, while living with extended family in Texas, she began enduring what would be years of horrific sexual abuse at the hands of a relative. She eventually became pregnant as a result, then became a young teen mom.

After the abuse came to light, the family member was sentenced to life in prison, and Felicia and her baby moved back to Cobb County, where Felicia’s mother lives. But her struggles didn’t end when the trial did. For a time she, her baby and her mother lived in a car in a Waffle House parking lot — all while Felicia was a sophomore at Marietta High School. With the help of then-principal Leigh Colburn and Holly Tuchman, executive director of the YWCA of Northwest Georgia, Felicia and her daughter were provided safe housing until she graduated high school.

Felicia, who lives with her boyfriend, high school sweetheart Alvaro Echeverria, is now a mother of two and full-time employee at an area Zaxby’s. After she shared her story earlier this year, Kennesaw State University officials got in touch, eager to do whatever they could to welcome her to campus. On the day she toured the school, it seemed everyone wanted to meet her.

“Are you ready to start college?” KSU President Daniel S. Papp asked. Felicia, usually confident and bubbly, was too nervous to say much. She nodded and said, “Yes.”

“We’ll do everything we can to help you,” Papp said, “but guess who’s got to do all the studying?”

Felicia lit up at that point.

“That’s OK,” she said. “I love school!”

From Papp’s office you can see the sun setting over Kennesaw Mountain, its rays stretching out from the horizon as another day is done. In the distance, you can also see a neon Waffle House sign. It’s the sign that once served as Felicia’s night light, when she and her daughter were homeless.

The YWCA of Northwest Georgia continues to help her in various ways — Tuchman and longtime supporter Kim Gresh surprised her with a laptop recently, for example. A community fund has been established at First Landmark Bank to assist with her college expenses. She wants to study criminal psychology. One day she’d like to help victims the way Austin Police Department Sgt. Carl Satterlee did when she was young, scared and pregnant.

Given her past, Felicia does not like it when people touch her. The day of her KSU tour, when she was teary-eyed and trembling, I placed my hand lightly on her back for support.

“How do you feel?” I asked.

“I feel alive,” she said.

Jennifer Brett, jbrett@ajc.com

Read the original story here.

As the Virgin Atlantic flight from London coasted down the runway at Hartsfield-Jackson airport, Maureen Miles experienced waves of emotion. In just a few minutes, she would meet the brother it took her more than 50 years to discover.

She stood behind the barrier at the international terminal waving a small British flag when she saw his 6-foot-3 inch frame, bright blue eyes and short crop of white hair come into focus. Chris Miles let go of his cart full of luggage, reached over the divide and wrapped his arms around his sister.

“I feel like I’m on cloud nine,” said Maureen, 72, the next day at Broadway Diner in Fayetteville where she shared a meal with Chris, 59, and her daughter, Meg Councilman.

“I feel like I want to pinch myself,” she said.

“I’ll do it for you, love,” quipped Chris.

For a half-century, London-born Maureen had nothing but questions about her family history. Her father, Dennis Miles, returned to service with the British Army shortly after she was born, and he never came home again. He wasn’t a casualty of World War II, but his marriage to her mother was. He met another woman and left his first family behind.

Maureen eventually tracked down her father, but it was too late. He had already died. Then she made a surprising discovery, she had a half-brother. The Salvation Army Missing Persons Bureau helped her track him down.

Chris was surprised and skeptical when he learned he had a half-sister. His father had never mentioned a previous marriage or a daughter – but he agreed to communicate with Maureen. They began talking by Skype several times a week, filling in the blanks of a history they never knew they shared.

But after months of regular communication, the two lost contact. A brief illness landed Chris in the hospital and other personal matters were consuming his time. Maureen was concerned but hopeful they would reconnect. When Chris resurfaced, he announced he was coming to visit Maureen the following week.

“It is easy to buy a plane ticket and to give it a lot of chitchat, but to turn up and meet someone that is your sister at the age of 59, never having known?” said Chris sounding incredulous. Just before getting off the plane, Chris choked up with emotion, but as soon as he spied Maureen in the crowd, he felt fine.

After making an impromptu stop at J.C. Penney for clothing more suited to Georgia’s weather, the pair shared a meal together at a local steakhouse before retreating to Maureen’s home where they relaxed, looked at photographs and began piecing together their family history.

The next morning at the Broadway Diner, despite having had little sleep, the mood was lively as brother and sister chatted about the British television show “Steptoe and Son,” English tea and the mysterious man who fathered them.

“I can’t believe how much alike in looks our mothers were,” said Maureen comparing their father’s wedding photos.

“I am still stunned that somebody I spent my whole life with could lead this double life,” said Chris.

“The one thing I will never be able to do is to get him back,” said Maureen. “I just want to know why.”

A little over a week later, Chris was headed back to London.

“It has been an immense journey in a very short space of time,” said Chris.

It’s now a journey they have vowed to make together.

Nedra Rhone, nrhone@ajc.com

Read the original story here.