"That's my baby," Immani screamed, running toward them. Two officers blocked her path. "She needs her medicine." "Ma'am, stay back. I'm her mother.
She has respiratory problems." Immani could see Tai standing by his open door, hands visible, face twisted with worry as Nova's cries grew weaker. Finally, paramedics arrived. Immani broke through the police line as they reached Nova, whose lips had taken on a bluish tinge. The paramedics quickly assessed her, administered oxygen, and cleared her airways.
"She's stabilizing," one paramedic assured them. But she should be checked at the hospital. Not Riverbridge, Immani said immediately. Take her to Metro General. Hours later, after Nova had been cleared and released, they returned home.
Immani hadn't spoken a word since leaving the hospital. She carried Nova to the nursery, changed her, fed her, and laid her in the crib with mechanical precision. Then she walked to their bedroom and collapsed. The sobs came from somewhere deep, somewhere primal. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think.
Tai's arms wrapped around her as she shook. "They'll never stop," she choked out. They'll never stop coming after us. After her. "Shh," Tai murmured, rocking her gently.
They could have killed her. Over what? Over their pride? Their power? Immani's voice cracked.
I did everything right. I went to school, built a company, played by their rules, and they still they still she couldn't finish. The image of Nova struggling to breathe played over and over in her mind. The police blocking access to life-saving medicine. The clinical way the paramedics had described how close it had been. ""What if we hadn't gotten there in time?"" she whispered.
"What if?" "Don't." Tai's voice was firm. Don't torture yourself with what-ifs. Nova's safe.
We're together. But Immani couldn't stop shaking. "They'll never stop," she repeated. The system, the corruption, all of it. They'll use anything.
Police, courts, medical records. They'll paint me as angry, as unstable, as unfit. They'll hurt my baby to hurt me. Tai held her tighter as she sobbed, her tears soaking his shirt. Outside their window, the sun climbed higher in the sky, oblivious to the broken woman weeping in her husband's arms, mourning not just today's terror, but generations of mothers who had faced the same systemic violence.
"They'll never stop," she whispered one final time, her voice hollow with exhaustion and despair. The doorbell chimed as evening shadows crept across Immani's living room. She hadn't moved from the couch since her breakdown, staring blankly at the wall while Tai tended to Nova. Her eyes felt swollen, her throat raw. Baby, Pastor Evelyn's here.
Tai called softly from the entryway. Immani didn't respond, but heard the familiar tap of Pastor Evelyn's cane on their hardwood floor. The elderly woman's presence filled the room before she even spoke. "Child," Pastor Evelyn said, lowering herself into an armchair. ""Look at me."" Immani reluctantly met her gaze. Pastor Evelyn's eyes held both steel and tenderness.
The look of someone who had weathered countless storms. "They almost Immani's voice cracked." "Nova could have, but she didn't." Pastor Evelyn cut in firmly. She's right there, sleeping peaceful as can be.
She nodded toward the baby monitor where Nova's steady breathing could be heard. Now, are you done feeling sorry for yourself? The words stung, but Imani recognized the tough love in them. Pastor Evelyn hadn't survived decades of fighting medical racism by wallowing. "They have all the power," Immani whispered. the courts, the police, everything.
Pastor Evelyn scoffed. "Child, please." You think we didn't face worse? You think we didn't have crosses burned on our lawns for daring to demand basic dignity? She leaned forward.
The power isn't in their systems. It's in their secrets. And you've got those now, don't you? A knock at the door interrupted them. Tai opened it to reveal Rosa, clutching her purse tightly.
"Her eyes were red-rimmed, but determined." "I brought something else," Rosa said without preamble, pulling out a thick folder. ""Training logs."" "Every nurse has to maintain current certifications. Mara's been falsifying them for years." Immani sat up straighter as Rosa spread the documents across their coffee table. "See these signatures?"
Mara signed off on training that never happened. She cut corners to save money, then covered it up. And these dates here, she backdated everything after inspections were announced. This is criminal negligence, Tai said, examining the papers. More than that, Pastor Evelyn added, "It's proof of a pattern.
She didn't just abuse her power once. She built a whole system of lies." Another knock made them all jump. This time Tom Haskins stood in the doorway looking uncomfortable in his CPS blazer. "Mr. Haskins?"
Immani tensed. "May I come in?" he asked formally. When Tai nodded, he entered but remained standing. "I need to tell you something." "Off the record."
He pulled out his phone, showing them an email chain. The tips about your family came directly from Gavin Price. He used multiple dummy accounts, but they all trace back to his IP address. He coordinated with local police to arrange that traffic stop. Immani's hands clenched.
"Can you testify to that?" "I will," Haskins said firmly. I've spent 20 years trying to protect children. What they did today, using my office as a weapon, endangering your daughter for political games, that's not protection. That's abuse of power.
Pastor Evelyn nodded approvingly. Now you're seeing it clear, Mr. Haskins. They need to say it, Imani murmured, an idea forming. All of it. "What's that, child?"
You said their power is in their secrets. Immani stood up, energy returning to her limbs. "So we make them read their lies out loud." Every false report, every faked signature, every racist complaint, make them speak their shame in public. Rosa's eyes widened.
"The board meeting—it's mandatory after a TRO, and it has to be public. "Exactly." Immani began pacing, her mind racing. We bring every mother they've wronged. We show every document.
We make them face what they've done. Not in private meetings, not in sealed records, but in front of everyone. They'll try to stop you, Haskins warned. "Let them try." Pastor Evelyn's voice carried decades of defiance.
"Truth has a way of being heard." Tai wrapped his arm around Immani's shoulders. "What do you need from us?" Rosa, can you get the affected mothers to testify? Rosa nodded.