Chapter 10 - Spring on the Ridge
The dogwood trees along the lower access road were finally blooming, their white petals catching the bright April sunlight as the state motorcade cleared the security gates for the spring graduation ceremony.
Six months had passed since the grand jury indictments. Commissioner Arthur Vance was currently awaiting trial in a federal detention facility three counties away, and Grant Mercer’s trial for assault and official misconduct was scheduled to begin in May. The Blue Ridge Public Safety Institute had a new director, a modernized medical protocol that mandated immediate emergency transport for any recruit showing signs of distress, and an oversight board that actually answered to the public rather than the political machine.
I stood on the manicured lawn beside the main parade ground, wearing a light spring blazer over a flowing emerald dress that accommodated my full seven-month baby bump. The morning breeze carried the crisp scent of pine and mountain laurel up from the valley, fresh and clean and entirely unburdened by the smoke of old institutional secrets.
Across the asphalt, eighty new recruits in crisp, unblemished uniforms stood at rigid attention, waiting for the command to march. Among them, near the front row, stood Tessa Monroe—fully recovered, wearing her cadet stripes with quiet pride, her head held high as she waited to receive her graduation certificate.
Jonah walked out from the administrative steps, carrying a leather folio containing the final accreditation papers for the new class. He stopped for a second, catching my eye across the open lawn, and gave me a slow, reassuring nod.
My hand rested comfortably against the warm curve of my belly. The baby was kicking steadily now—strong, rhythmic, and entirely unafraid of the world it was about to enter.
Jonah stepped up to the podium, cleared his throat into the microphone, and spoke the words that every recruit in the valley had been waiting to hear.
May you like
"Class dismissed," he said.
And as the recruits broke formation, tossing their caps into the brilliant spring air with a roar of laughter and collective triumph, I knew that the inspection was finally over, and the real work had just begun.
