I hop up. “I’ll get them.”
When I enter the nursery, Emery hiccups from her cot, her little face streaked with tears.
“Hey, now,” I soothe, reaching in and lifting her out, cradling her against my chest. “Are you hungry, sweetheart?”
Her violet eyes cross, her face squishing as something rumbles under my hands, before an odour reaches my nose and I wrinkle my face back at her.
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” I ask her, and she blinks at me innocently.
My shoulders shaking, I pop her down on the changing mat and reach for a diaper.
If this is what normal looks like, I’ll volunteer every damn time.
Epilogue – Ava
Senator Denver greets me at the top of the steps of the Justice building, a broad smile on her face.
“No crowds this time,” she grins. I grin back at her. “Better this way.”
She laughs, linking my arm in hers as we walk towards her office. “How are you feeling?”
“Excited. Nervous.”
Butterflies flutter in my stomach, matching the ones on my long dress. My hair loosely falls down my back. I’m not dressing up for anyone today.
Today, I am unashamedly and unapologetically Ava Grey.
Mated omega, Safe Space founder, and signatory of the Omega Rights Bill.
“More than two years of work,” Erica sighs. “I can’t believe it.”
I shake my head in agreement.
“It feels like ten years,” I joke, but I’m not entirely joking. Our win at the Supreme Court was only the beginning. It’s taken two long years to unravel the various wrongdoings of the Omega Creed, to dissolve the adoption system and to create a new Bill setting out the rights of omegas.
Equal to any alpha or beta. Property of no one.
When Erica asked me to stand in as an advisor, I’d been hesitant. It was Max who talked me into it, his brown eyes earnest on mine.
“You know better than anyone what they’ve done,” he told me. “This is your chance to undo it, sweetheart. Build a world to be proud of.”
And we have.
Emotion tightens my throat as we stand at the doors to the court. Erica squeezes my hand, and I smile at her, remembering the last time I stood in this position.
“How long do you think this will take?” I ask her in a whisper.
She grimaces. “Maybe an hour. Depends how much posturing they want to do.”
Checking my watch, I nod. “Somewhere to be?” she asks me wryly.
I grin. “Yep, but I’ve got time for this first.”
* * *
“Mom!”
I wave frantically as Nash dashes through the small gathering of kids, shouting out his goodbyes and waving to his friends enthusiastically. He hits my middle and I let out an oomph.
