I flick it on in the conference room and turn up the volume, flooded by news pouring in. The red BREAKING NEWS headlines scroll across the bottom of the screen:

Breaking News: Innocence X founder Stephen Jones takes high-profile case. Inquiries into Davidson murders and new witnesses.

Breaking News: Jamal Beaumont to be released as suspect in murder of eighteen-year-old Angela Herron.

A Black female reporter stands at the steps of the county jail.

“In a strange turn of events, local white nationalist Richard Brighton will be charged with the murder of Angela Herron. A reliable witness has also come forward with evidence that would connect Brighton to the murders of Mark and Cathy Davidson more than seven years ago, claiming that prosecutors hid the crucial evidence at the time. We’ll be following these cases closely.”

I cover my mouth. I used to dream about this day for Daddy. Replay all the ways that his story would finally be told, but I never thought it would be like this.

“News travels fast.” Mr. Jones turns to Steve. “Good job, son. You went with your gut in taking this case. Tracy, when you get to college, let me know if you’re looking for an internship.”

I nod, still in shock.

“What does this mean now that it’s on the news like this?” I ask.

“It means they can’t hide this story,” Steve says. “It’s on every channel.”

Each moment I’ve held in—twisted up for years of prayer, hope, anguish—all unwind as I let out a cry.

“Daddy’s coming home,” I say. “Daddy’s coming home.” Each time I say the words, they feel more real.

I flick through a few news stations to catch the coverage. All are on Daddy’s case, highlighting Innocence X, who have been working on exoneration cases for decades. Daddy’s story is their most visible case to date.

My fists unclench. How long have I been holding myself ready to fight? I look at the clock on the wall. Time shifting to our side.

TWO MONTHS LATER

Jamal is suited up in the same outfit from The Susan Touric Show. He holds on to Corinne’s hand, who’s shaking next to him. Mama’s got her hand on Jamal’s shoulder. I’m wearing yellow today. A bright-colored dress for what I’m hoping is the best day of my life. My hair blown out, even took the time for makeup.

We take the courthouse steps as a family, fighting through a swarm of news media.

We enter and go through security for the Court of Criminal Appeals, courtroom 8. Judge Vandyne is the presiding judge among the nine judges who have been reviewing Daddy’s appeal. My footsteps make the familiar sound of walking on the marble floors.