The heavy door opened, and then it closed behind them with a solid, metallic thud.

The room suddenly felt much larger, and much lighter.

The judge gathered her papers into a neat stack.

“Court is adjourned,” she said, striking her gavel once.

She stood up, her black robes rustling, and walked out through the door behind her bench.

Mr. Miller turned to us, a small, tired smile on his face.

“It’s over,” he said, extending his hand to Leo.

Leo shook his hand warmly.

“Thank you, Miller,” Leo said.

“You saved our family.”

“The hospital records saved you,” Mr. Miller said, turning his gaze to me.

“And your resilience, Grace.”

“Go get your son.”

I stood up, my legs feeling like paper, but Leo held my arm to steady me.

We walked out of the courtroom and down the long, quiet hallway of the courthouse.

The rain was still falling outside, visible through the large glass doors at the entrance.

We ran through the wet parking lot to Leo’s truck, the cool rain washing over my face.

We drove to the hospital in silence, the windshield wipers clacking a steady rhythm.