“If we release it to the press, the company stock will collapse,” Blake said.

“It is the only way to make her stop,” I said. “She cares about the company more than anything.”

Blake picked up the drive and stared at it for a long moment.

“Then let it collapse,” he said.

He inserted the drive into his computer and began typing rapidly.

I stood beside him, watching the data upload to a public environmental registry.

“Once this is live, there is no going back,” I said.

“I don’t want to go back,” Blake said.

He clicked the mouse one final time, and a progress bar filled the screen.

The data was sent.

We sat in the quiet office for a long time, watching the city lights blink across the dark lake.

The boys slept peacefully on the sofa, covered by Clara’s coat.

The next morning, the news of the Harrington Green Energy contamination was on every front page.

Helena Harrington was forced to step down from the board by noon.

By evening, the lawyers had finalized the public announcement of our custody agreement.

There was no grand battle, no public trial, and no victory celebration.

We walked out of the skyscraper together into the cold Chicago rain, our hands shielding the boys from the drops.

For the first time in years, the future felt quiet, simple, and entirely ours.