The first thing Tessa Rowan heard when she opened her eyes was a baby crying.

Six months later.

The morning sky over Springfield was clear, bright blue, and crisp with the early chill of spring.

Tessa sat at a polished conference table on the twelfth floor of the Springfield Financial Center. Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the stacks of legal documents laid out before her.

Beside her sat Victoria Vance.

Across the table sat Derek Rowan, dressed in an ill-fitting, wrinkled grey suit. He looked ten years older. The slick, polished executive posture was completely gone; his shoulders were slumped, his eyes shadowed by heavy dark circles. Beside him sat a court-appointed public defender—Richard Vance had formally withdrawn from representing his brother three months ago after the state bar association launched an ethics investigation into his firm.

"We are here to finalize the global divorce settlement and asset distribution in Rowan v. Rowan," Victoria Vance announced, opening her leather binder.

She slid a thick document across the table toward Derek's public defender.

"Per the forensic accounting audit completed by the court-appointed receiver," Victoria stated, "we have uncovered the full network of illicit offshore accounts held under Rowan Holdings LLC in the Cayman Islands, totaling two point four million dollars."

Derek stared down at his hands, saying nothing.

"Under the proposed global settlement," Victoria continued calmly, "Mr. Rowan will execute a total transfer of all hidden offshore assets, 100% of the equity in the Oakridge Drive marital residence, and his vested corporate stock options directly to Tessa Rowan as a lump-sum settlement for back spousal support, child support, and legal restitution."

Derek's public defender sighed, looking at his client. "Derek, this is as good as it gets. If this goes to a civil jury trial on top of your pending criminal indictment, you will be wiped out completely and saddled with civil judgments for the rest of your life."

Derek lifted his head slowly, looking at Tessa. "You took everything, Tess. My job, my reputation, my money."

"You took those things from yourself, Derek," Tessa replied softly, her voice devoid of malice or triumph—only plain, undeniable truth. "When you used your company's PR resources to launch a fake viral scandal, you violated your executive contract. When you paid for bots using corporate funds, you committed wire fraud. The board fired you because of what you did, not because of me."

"I'm facing four years in state prison, Tessa," Derek whispered, his voice cracking. "Four years."

"Then you'll have four years to think about what you did to your son," Tessa said quietly. "Sign the papers, Derek."

With shaking fingers, Derek picked up the pen. He flipped to the final page of the agreement and signed his name on the line: Derek Rowan.

Victoria picked up the signed documents, checked every signature, and nodded satisfied. "We're done here."

Tessa stood up, pulled her coat over her shoulders, and walked out of the conference room without looking back.

She rode the elevator down to the main lobby, stepping out into the bright morning sunshine.

Waiting near the fountain outside the building was Clara, holding Jamie’s hand as the toddler—now ten months old, chubby-cheeked, and laughing—took small, uncertain steps across the concrete plaza.