It came as a shock when Margaret showed up at Naledi's door one cool Tuesday morning, her tone unusually soft, her expression almost… remorseful.
"I came to say I'm sorry," she said, hands folded tightly in front of her. "I know I overstepped. I just—I want to try again. For Tiana's sake."
Naledi stood at the threshold, the baby nestled in her arms. She didn't answer right away. Part of her wanted to slam the door shut. But another part—the exhausted, still-hopeful part—wondered if maybe, just maybe, this could be a turning point.
Margaret continued, "I'd like to split time with Alice, take turns helping out. She's your family, but I'm Shawn's mother, and I want a relationship with my granddaughter. I think I can relate to her more than Alice does."
That last part stung, but Naledi let it slide. For the sake of peace, she gave Margaret the benefit of the doubt.
The next two weeks felt almost surreal in their calmness. Margaret came around as promised, took care of Tiana with a new gentleness, and even brought over groceries a few times. Naledi began to relax—just a little. She took naps. She caught her breath. She let herself believe that maybe co-parenting with extended family could work.
Then the phone rang.
It was the housemaid from Margaret's place. Her voice trembled as she said the words Naledi would never forget:
"Your baby… she's in the hospital."
Naledi's heart stopped. "What happened? What's wrong?!"
"There was an accident. Please come quickly."
She didn't wait for more details. She scooped up Lincoln and called Alice, her hands shaking as she buckled him into the car seat. Her thoughts raced. What kind of accident? Was Tiana hurt? Was she breathing?
The hospital smelled like antiseptic and sorrow. Nurses buzzed past, barely looking up. When Naledi arrived at the front desk, breathless and panicked, she saw her.
Margaret.
She was speaking to a nurse and a doctor, trying to persuade them not to contact Child Protective Services.
"The mother agreed to it," she was saying. "She knew."
Naledi's voice cracked the sterile air like lightning.
"Knew what?"
The room went still.
The nurse turned. "Are you the mother?"
Naledi nodded, eyes darting toward the emergency doors.
The doctor gently pulled her aside. "Your daughter… she was exposed to harsh chemicals. Someone tried to dye her hair and eyebrows. It caused a severe reaction—burns to her skin, irritation in her eyes. She's stable now, but she'll need to stay for monitoring and treatment."
Naledi's legs gave out from under her. "Who did this?" she whispered, even though she already knew.
Margaret took a step forward. "I just wanted her to—"
The slap rang out before she could finish.
The entire waiting room froze as Margaret hit the ground, stunned. Naledi stood over her, trembling with fury and grief.
"You hurt my baby," she spat. "You touched her without my permission. You put her in danger!"
Margaret began shouting in return, defensive and loud, trying to justify the act. "I just thought she'd look more like her brother. Like Shawn. Blonde hair, blue eyes—it was just a touch-up!"
"You mean you tried to erase her?" Naledi screamed. "She's perfect the way she is!"
Security appeared, followed by a hospital social worker. Naledi, heart breaking, turned away and asked again about her daughter. A nurse led her to the pediatric wing. Tiana was lying there, her tiny body covered in a soft blanket, her head wrapped in bandages. Her eyes were puffy and red.
Naledi crumbled to the floor beside the bed, sobbing into her hands. She couldn't stop. Not for minutes. Not for hours.
Alice stood silently behind her, tears in her own eyes. She pulled out her phone and called Shawn.
"You need to come," she said softly. "Your daughter's in the hospital. Your mother put her here."
An hour passed. Lincoln had to go home to get ready for school the next morning, so Alice took him. He didn't want to leave.
In the car, Lincoln sat silently, gripping the seatbelt with white knuckles.
"She hurt Tiana," he said finally, his voice small. "She wanted her to look like Dad. Like me. That's not right."
Alice didn't answer—she didn't need to. Lincoln turned to the window, his face set.
"I'm going to protect her. I'll never let anyone hurt her again."
Back at the hospital, Naledi sat with her daughter all night, her fingers brushing Tiana's hand as she dozed in and out of sleep. The trauma clung to her like a second skin. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her baby crying, helpless, in pain.
The next morning, Child Protective Services arrived to file a report. Margaret was taken into custody. Naledi didn't even flinch when they told her. She was already filing a lawsuit for child endangerment and assault.
By the time Shawn arrived, the storm had passed—but its destruction was still everywhere. He walked into the room and found Naledi curled up in a chair, asleep, tears still drying on her cheeks. Tiana was hooked up to machines. The sight of her burned skin, the gauze on her forehead, was too much.
He clenched his fists.
He walked out without a word, straight to the police station.
There, he demanded the harshest legal consequence they could impose—within reason. Community service, a restraining order. Anything to keep his mother away from Naledi and Tiana for good.
Margaret was stunned when he showed up at her holding cell.
"Shawn!" she cried, rushing toward the bars. "I knew you'd come. Thank you, baby."
He stared at her with ice in his eyes.
"You'll never come near my family again," he said flatly.
"Shawn—please—"
He stepped back. "You don't get to cry now. You hurt my daughter. You hurt your granddaughter. We're done."
Margaret collapsed to the bench behind her, her cries echoing off the cement walls.
But Shawn didn't stay to hear them. He left her behind—where she belonged.