Chapter 18
Justice did not make life simple.
It made life possible.
I returned to Vance Development with a cane and a baby photo on my desk.
The board offered sympathy.
I offered restructuring.
Anyone tied to Julian resigned or was removed.
We sold assets connected to the scandal.
We funded restitution for North Ridge survivors.
We turned the burned lake property into something else.
Not a resort.
Not a mansion.
A recovery center.
Women who had been declared unstable by powerful men could come there for legal aid, medical advocacy, and a safe bed.
I named it The Thomas House after my father.
Thomas pretended to hate the attention.
Then I caught him touching the sign with tears in his eyes.
Hazel grew.
She laughed early.
Loudly.
Like joy had a point to prove.
I loved mornings most.
Her warm weight against me.
Coffee going cold.
My legs aching but working.
Sometimes grief still found me.
Sometimes I saw Eleanor’s hand crossing my face in dreams.
Sometimes I woke reaching for Hazel.
She was always there.
Safe.
One afternoon, Victoria visited with baby Samuel.
She stood on my porch looking nervous.
“I don’t expect forgiveness.”
“Good,” I said.
She nodded.
“I wanted to thank you for saving us.”
I looked at Samuel sleeping in her arms.
“You saved him when you told the truth.”
She cried.
Maybe one day, forgiveness would come.
May you like
Maybe not.
Peace did not require it.
