LOGIN(Naomi POV)"You don't have to come in with me."Julian said it gently, Edith asleep in her carrier against Naomi's chest, the two of them standing outside the door to an office neither of them had entered together in over a year, Theo having asked them to clear out the last of Julian's things before it became the fund's new corporate partnership space, a place companies could come specifically to learn how to do right by the people they might otherwise bury."I want to," Naomi said. "I think I need to, actually."Julian opened the door. The room was mostly empty now, the same desk remaining, dark wood catching the afternoon light exactly the way it had the morning her entire life rearranged itself around a single word."This is where you told me I was useful," Naomi said quietly, tracing her fingers along the edge of the desk, the same gesture from that terrible morning, except this time it carried no fear in it at all, only remembrance."I know," Julian said. "I've thought about tea
(Naomi POV)"You're allowed to be scared. I am too."Julian said it quietly, gripping her hand through another contraction, the hospital room around them bright and clinical and entirely unlike anywhere either of them had imagined this moment happening. They'd painted the nursery just two weeks earlier, a soft, undecided green Vivian had ultimately vetoed in favor of something warmer, and Naomi found herself thinking of it now, absurdly, in the middle of everything else, wondering if the paint had even finished drying."I'm not scared of the pain," Naomi managed, breathless. "I'm scared I won't know what to do the second she's actually here.""Neither will I," Julian admitted. "I don't think anyone does, not really. I think we just figure it out, the same way we figured out everything else."The hours that followed blurred together in a way Naomi would only piece together properly afterward, in fragments, Julian's steady voice counting through each contraction, the nurse's calm compet
(Naomi POV)Julian appeared in the kitchen doorway, phone still in hand, something soft and slightly stunned in his expression, the particular look of a man who'd just received news too large to process standing still. Naomi had been going over fund paperwork at the table, half-listening to him on the phone in the next room, assuming it was another vendor call about the greenhouse he'd been trying, with limited success, to get running properly for weeks."What is it," Naomi asked, setting down her own phone, something instinctive already tightening in her chest at his expression.Julian crossed the room slowly and knelt in front of her chair, taking both her hands, his own trembling slightly. "I just got off the phone with the doctor's office," he said. "The test came back. Naomi, we're going to have a baby."Naomi felt the words land somewhere entirely new, a future neither of them had fully spoken aloud arriving all at once, unplanned and unguarded and completely, terrifyingly real.
(Naomi POV)"She's terrified to testify."Renata said it the moment Naomi picked up, her voice tight with the particular frustration of someone who understood a problem intimately but hadn't yet found its solution. Naomi could hear the fund's small office humming faintly in the background, phones ringing somewhere down the hall, the modest, steady sound of an organization that had grown, in less than a year, from an idea into something with its own daily rhythm."Tell me everything," Naomi said, already reaching for a notepad."Her name is Carol Reyes," Renata said. "Forty-three, single mother, worked at a manufacturing plant for eleven years. She reported unsafe conditions after a coworker was injured, documented everything properly, exactly the way Daniel did. Two weeks later, she was let go for performance issues that never once appeared in eleven years of reviews. The company's already threatening a defamation countersuit if she speaks publicly. She has two kids and no savings cus
(Naomi POV)"You haven't touched the trust."Priya said it carefully, spreadsheet open on her laptop, the two of them sitting at Naomi's kitchen table two weeks into married life, sunlight coming through a window they still hadn't found curtains for."I know," Naomi said. "You could use it for the wedding, you said. For a house, eventually. But I keep thinking about what Thomas actually wrote. That he wanted one thing in this whole tangled mess to come from him freely, without strings, without revenge. I don't want to just fold it into wedding expenses and let it disappear into flowers and catering.""What do you want to do with it," Priya asked.Naomi had been turning the question over for weeks, and the answer, when it finally arrived, felt obvious. "I want to start something," she said slowly. "A fund. For people like Renata's husband, people who tried to do the right thing and got quietly erased for it. I want to call it the Daniel Cole Fund. I want Renata to help me run it, if sh
(Naomi POV)The conservatory had transformed since the ceremony, string lights strung through the climbing vines now that dusk was settling in, long tables scattered with candles and the particular happy chaos of a wedding reception in full swing. Somewhere near the makeshift dance floor, a small band Vivian had insisted on booking was tuning up, and the smell of the evening's dinner still lingered pleasantly over everything, warm bread and something citrus that Naomi hadn't managed to identify all night.Theo stood at the head table, glass raised, grinning in a way that had the whole reception laughing before he'd said anything substantial. "I've been rehearsing this in the car for three days," he announced. "My girlfriend made me practice it on her twice. She said the first version made her cry for the wrong reasons."Priya, seated beside Naomi, buried her face in her hands, laughing despite herself."Julian used to be someone who solved every problem by controlling it," Theo contin







