Chapter 122 – Rosehill Celebrates

POV: Sarah Whitmore

The sound of laughter spilled out into the streets of Rosehill. Sarah stood at the café's front door, watching as people crowded into the town square. Kids wore face paint in Wolves' colors, and someone had even managed to hang a banner that read: Champions. 2025. The Wolves.

She held a cup of coffee in her hands, but it had long gone cold. Her eyes were locked on the crowd, waiting.

Then she saw him.

Ryan, walking slowly—still cautious, still slightly limping—but on his own two feet. The crowd around him parted, like they somehow knew this was more than just a player returning from an injury. This was her son, finally whole again.

Tears pricked her eyes. Not from sadness, but from relief. From pride.

Jack placed a hand on her shoulder. "He did it," he said.

Sarah nodded, unable to speak. Her heart had never felt so full.

POV: Ben Carter

The music was loud. People were dancing in the park near Main Street, and for once, no one was thinking about homework or chores or drama.

Ben stood near the edge of the celebration, his Wolves jacket slung over one shoulder. He watched Ryan move through the crowd, shaking hands, smiling, standing.

Ben had seen the guy hit rock bottom. Watched him push people away, break his own heart, and nearly give up.

But now?

Now he was their coach. A brother. A fighter.

Ben couldn't help the grin that formed. "You're a damn legend, Whitmore."

POV: Anna Morgan

From across the square, Anna leaned against a tree, her arms folded tightly across her chest. Her gaze never left Ryan.

He was laughing with Tyler, pointing something out. His hand brushed through his hair the same way it always did when he was nervous. But he looked different now—lighter somehow, like some invisible weight had finally lifted.

Anna smiled softly.

Their story hadn't ended how she imagined it. But maybe that was okay. Maybe love didn't always have to look the way you wanted. Sometimes, it looked like standing across a crowd, smiling silently, and knowing you'd always have each other's backs.

And that was enough.

POV: Coach Daniels

He wasn't there. Not physically.

But Coach Daniels had left behind more than his office key. As he drove through his new city, he checked his phone, opened the text Ryan had sent earlier: We won. And I walked.

A quiet smile tugged at his lips.

The kid he once had to pull off the edge was now standing tall—literally and figuratively.

"That's my boy," he whispered to the windshield, and kept driving.

POV: Tyler Morris

Tyler had never been to a real celebration before. Not like this.

People kept patting him on the back, handing him sodas, telling him You're the future of Rosehill basketball.

But all he could focus on was Ryan.

He remembered their training sessions. The sweat, the pain, the endless drills. The quiet pep talks. The way Ryan saw something in him that no one else had.

Now here they were. Champions.

Tyler walked up to Ryan. "Hey, Coach?"

Ryan turned to him, smiling.

"Let's do it again next year."

Ryan bumped his fist. "You bet we will."

POV: Richard Morgan

He hadn't spoken much tonight. He wasn't great with crowds or noise or celebration. But as he leaned against the lamppost and watched his son take a slow lap around the square, Richard felt something he hadn't felt in years:

Hope.

He still didn't know how to be a good father. But tonight, he didn't have to be perfect. He just had to show up. And he had.

He walked toward Sarah. Stood beside her.

"You raised a good man," he said.

Sarah nodded. "He raised himself. We just gave him room to stand."

The town glowed that night—not just from lights, but from something warmer.

Pride. Resilience. Family.

And above it all, Ryan Whitmore stood—not as the boy who had once arrived broken, but as the young man who rose from it all and led his town to glory.