Page 144 of Keller

"Southern Stars is my rebirth." I watch the light shift through the leaves overhead. "For the first time in months, I can see a path forward. A place where I can create stability for this baby and for me.”

Leah reaches across the space between our chairs and squeezes my hand.

"You're going to be an amazing mother."

The hurt is still there, buried beneath the calm. Keller's face when he walked out my door, the sound of it closing behind him. But it's bearable now, and I'm feeling really hopeful about my future. I miss him, but it no longer guts me.

Eight facesaround the conference table turn toward me as I stand at the head of the room, the digital presentation glowing behind me on the mounted screen.

"Let's start with the current grant structure." I click the remote, advancing to the first slide. A flowchart fills the screen.

"Right now, we have three separate approval pathways depending on grant size. That creates inconsistency and slows down disbursement."

Margaret Lowenstein, our finance director, leans forward in her chair. Her pen hovers over her notepad.

"I'm proposing we consolidate into a single-tiered system." I point to the screen. "Grants under ten thousand dollars requireprogram director approval. Ten to fifty requires my sign-off plus one board member. Anything over fifty goes to full board review."

"What about emergency situations?" Kirk Walsh asks from the far end of the table. He handles veteran outreach. "Sometimes we need to move fast."

"Good question." I advance to the next slide. "Emergency disbursements under fifteen thousand can bypass standard review with documented justification and retroactive approval within seventy-two hours. But documentation is non-negotiable. Every dollar needs a paper trail."

Heads nod around the table. I feel the weight of their attention, not skepticism.

This is different from the Bureau. There, I analyzed systems other people built, and everything was institutional. Nothing with the government has a human touch.

Here, I get to create something from the foundation up. And everything lives and breathes.

"Now let's talk about sustainability." Another click. "We currently rely on three major donors for sixty-two percent of our operating budget. That's a vulnerability."

I walk them through my proposal. We need to focus on diversified funding streams and a planned giving program targeting estate bequests. Corporate partnerships with quarterly reporting requirements are a must.

Each element connects to the next.

"Carmen, I need you to pull the last five years of donor retention data by next Friday." I glance at the communications coordinator. "Kirk, I want a list of corporate employers with veteran hiring initiatives. We're going to approach them about matching gift programs."

"Timeline for the matching gift outreach?" Kirk asks.

"Initial contact list by the end of the month. First meetings scheduled before September."

I advance through two more slides covering accountability frameworks. Quarterly performance reviews are tied to measurable outcomes. Beneficiary tracking that protects privacy while demonstrating impact. Grant recipients are required to submit progress reports at thirty, sixty, and ninety days.

"Any questions before we move to the scholarship fund audit?"

Silence. Then Margaret speaks. "This is comprehensive, Quinn. Really well thought out. We sure are lucky to have you at the helm."

I allow myself a small nod. "We're building something that will outlast any single administration. These systems need to run whether I'm here or not."

The meeting continues for another forty minutes. I assign seven follow-up tasks with specific deadlines. Everyone leaves with clear next steps.

The door closes behind the last staffer, and the room falls quiet. Just me and the empty chairs and the presentation still glowing on the screen.

I press my palm flat against the table. Solid. Real.

My other hand moves to my stomach.

We're going to be okay.

The hallway stretches quietly ahead of me as I walk back to my office. Late afternoon sun cuts through the blinds in slanted bars, warming the hardwood floor. My heels click a steady rhythm against the boards.