Six months into Elara's pregnancy, the training center was taking shape—its steel framework rising high above the old factory site, a symbol of Blackwater's transformation. Elara stood on the observation deck they'd built, looking out at the progress while holding a hard hat under her arm. Her belly was round and prominent, and she'd slowed down a bit, but she still came to the site every week to document the project for The Chronicle.
"Everything on schedule?" Kael asked, walking up beside her with a bottle of water. He'd been splitting his time between the training center and finalizing partnerships with other cities, but he made sure to be home every night to help Elara prepare for the baby.
"Right on track," she said, taking a sip of water. "The classrooms should be finished by next month, and the community spaces are moving along faster than expected. Jake's welding class even volunteered to make metal art for the entrance—he says it'll represent the city's journey from darkness to light."
"That sounds perfect." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, careful not to press too hard on her belly. "How are you feeling? You look tired."
"Just a little," she admitted. "But I'm so excited—I can't wait to bring our baby here, to show them what we've built."
Just then, Maria rushed up to them, her face serious. "We have a problem. A group of people from a neighboring city have been spreading rumors about the center—saying we're 'coddling criminals' and that the program will bring violence to Blackwater. They've been showing up at the site, trying to slow down construction."
Kael's jaw tightened, but he kept his voice calm. "Have they been violent?"
"Not yet," Maria said. "But they're getting louder. Some of our volunteers have been harassed, and a few workers have quit out of fear."
Elara looked out at the construction site, where a small group of protesters had gathered near the entrance. "We can't let them undo everything we've worked for. We need to show them what this center is really about."
Over the next few days, they organized an open house at the construction site—inviting the protesters, local residents, and media to come see the plans and meet the people who'd been helped by Blackwater's programs. Elara worked with Tyler, Jake, and other program graduates to share their stories, while Kael gave tours of the site and explained how the training center would benefit not just Blackwater, but the entire region.
"I used to be one of the people you're afraid of," Tyler told the crowd, standing beside Emma who was holding his hand. "I made terrible mistakes, and I hurt a lot of people. But because of the programs here, I've been able to turn my life around. I have a job, I get to see my daughter every day, and I'm helping other people do the same. This center isn't about coddling anyone—it's about giving people the tools they need to be better."
One of the protesters—a woman named Sarah whose son had been hurt by a former gang member—stepped forward. "I lost my son to violence," she said, her voice shaking. "I'm scared that giving people second chances will just put more innocent people in danger."
Elara walked over to her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I understand your fear—I've seen what violence can do to families. But every single person here has worked hard to earn their second chance. And the training center will teach law enforcement how to prevent crime, not just punish it. We're building a city where no parent has to lose a child to violence ever again."
Slowly but surely, the crowd began to listen. By the end of the open house, many of the protesters had changed their minds—some even signed up to volunteer at the center once it was finished. Sarah hugged Tyler and Emma, tears streaming down her face.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I was so angry and scared—I couldn't see past my pain. But you're right—we need to build something better for our kids."
A few weeks later, the training center was officially dedicated. The mayor was there, along with state officials and hundreds of community members. Elara—who was now eight months pregnant—stood beside Kael as he gave a speech.
"Years ago, this city was defined by fear and violence," he said, looking out at the crowd. "But the people of Blackwater refused to give up. We learned that strength isn't about being tough—it's about being brave enough to believe in second chances. This center is for every person who's ever made a mistake, every family who's ever been hurt, and every child who deserves a better future."
As the crowd cheered, Elara felt a kick from inside her belly. She looked up at Kael, a smile on her face.
"Looks like our baby is ready to be part of this too," she said.
Kael took her hand, his eyes filled with love. "They're going to grow up in a world where anything is possible. And that's the greatest gift we can give them."
That night, as they lay in bed watching the city lights shine through their window, Elara knew that their work was far from over. But with their baby on the way and a community that had learned to hope again, she was ready for whatever the future might bring.