The petition was denied. Therapy ordered. Oversight required. Naomi would complete trauma certification.
The story went public. Accusations. Racism. Support poured in too.
Ethan held a press conference. He told the truth. About his failure. About his bias. About Naomi.
“Children don’t care about skin color,” he said. “They care about who stays.”
Months passed. Naomi returned to nursing. Reconnected with her sister. Earned her license back.
Ethan made her co-guardian legally. “Not as an employee,” he said. “As family.”
One year later, the house was loud with life. Music off-key. Pillow forts. Laughter.
Naomi announced her hospital had named a trauma-care program after her.
Later, they stood together at her daughter’s grave. The boys held her hands.
“We’ll take care of her,” Micah whispered.
That night, under the stars, Ethan said, “Broken things repaired with gold become stronger.”
Naomi smiled. Inside, three boys slept peacefully.
And for the first time, no one was afraid of the dark.
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