Chapter 19 - The Public Exposure
At noon the following day, the steps of the New York State Supreme Court were swarming with television cameras and reporters.
Flashbulbs erupted in a blinding storm as Victoria Whitlow and her high-profile defense attorneys attempted to push their way through the throng toward a waiting black SUV.
Microphones were shoved aggressively into her face as reporters shouted questions over the roar of traffic.
"Ms. Whitlow! Did you coordinate with Richard Caldwell to withhold life-saving pediatric supplies to manipulate stock prices?"
"Is it true that the state medical board has revoked the Whitlow Foundation's philanthropic charter?"
Victoria refused to answer, her designer sunglasses shielding her furious, humiliated eyes as her security guards shoved photographers out of the way.
Her luxury vehicle sped away, leaving behind a ruined reputation that no amount of inherited wealth could ever repair.
Rowan and I watched the broadcast from the small television screen in the hospital cafeteria, James sitting in a high chair between us happily munching on steamed carrots.
Chief Margaret Walsh walked over, holding two manila envelopes, and set them down on our lunch tray with a satisfied smirk.
"The hospital board has officially ratified the permanent contracts," Margaret announced, crossing her arms with pride.
"Dr. Rowan Miller, you are formally appointed as the assistant director of neonatal surgery."
"And Dr. Sebastian Caldwell, your appointment as the head of pediatric critical care is fully approved by unanimous consent."
Rowan’s hand flew to her mouth in utter astonishment.
"Margaret... I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything, just keep saving babies," Margaret replied with a fond chuckle, tapping James lightly on his button nose.
"And make sure this little troublemaker gets to his afternoon nap on time."
James giggled, waving a piece of carrot in the air like a tiny victory flag.
"Thank you, Margaret," I said sincerely, shaking the chief's hand with immense gratitude.
"You stood by us when you had every reason to fire me."
"I fired the arrogant brat who walked into my hospital three years ago," Margaret said, winking at Rowan.
"The man standing here today is someone this hospital cannot afford to lose."
When Margaret walked away, Rowan looked at me, her eyes shining with triumphant, unadulterated joy.
"We won, Sebastian," she whispered, her fingers intertwining with mine across the plastic cafeteria table.
"We finally beat the shadows."
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"We won our life back," I agreed, kissing the back of her hand with reverent tenderness.
"Now let’s take our son to the park."
