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Since the dawn of time, humanity’s most lethal disease has been prejudice. It breeds ignorance, and at its worst, manifests as racism. No matter how the world changes, there will always be those who spread hatred, unwilling to see beyond their own biases. And no matter how much we hope, not every heart or mind can be changed.
That’s why it’s important to surround yourself with those who see beyond appearances—people who judge you for your character, not your skin or origins. Those who understand the simple yet powerful message that God gave all his children when He granted life: that we are meant to love one another.
Sadly, not everyone reaches that enlightenment. Some remain infected by hatred, their hearts and souls decayed beyond repair. Their minds remain trapped in a fog of ignorance, so thick that no light can break through.
At Vladco’s headquarters, Ian Kent sat at his desk, poring over performance files. He had been at this since sunrise, exhaustion dragging at his body, but he refused to leave a task unfinished.
Reaching for yet another folder, he barely reacted when someone knocked on his office door. He already knew who it was.
"Ian, it’s nearly ten-thirty," came the smooth, familiar voice of Vlad Masters, his best friend and boss. "You should’ve been home hours ago. Didn’t I tell you this could wait until tomorrow? I’m sure Stacy is wondering where you are. And your daughter—Brooke just had surgery, for God’s sake. You need to be with your family, not buried in paperwork."
Vlad stepped inside, already helping gather the files as if Ian had no choice but to comply.
Ian sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "You’re a good friend, Vlad. I just didn’t want to fall behind. But, honestly? I’d much rather be home with Stacy and Brooke right now."
"And you should be," Vlad said firmly. "I’ve told you before, and I’ll say it again—family emergencies take priority. All my employees still get paid, no exceptions. I’d never deny someone a paycheck, especially when they need time off for family."
As they walked toward the exit, Ian finally relented. "Alright, alright. I’ll take the time off. But since we’re on the subject—how’s your son? I heard he was in the Ghost Zone hospital recently."
Vlad’s expression softened. "Yes, Daniel had to get ear tubes put in. Given how many ear infections he’s had in the past two years, it was inevitable."
"But he’s recovered?"
"He’ll be fine. Magdalene’s fussing over all the kids, though. She blames herself—worries that they inherited her weakened immune system. It’s left them all chronically anemic."
Ian gave him a knowing look. "At least they didn’t inherit your family’s problem with Pernicious Anemia. Be grateful they only got one parent’s health issues."
Vlad chuckled dryly. "Fair point. Now, go home. Brooke needs you."
"I will," Ian agreed. "Though I’ll check in when I can."
"Wouldn’t expect anything less. Give Stacy and Brooke my best."
Ian smiled. "Will do."
As Ian stepped outside toward his car, his expression suddenly darkened.
Vlad noticed immediately. "What’s wrong?"
Ian pointed. "Third time in three months," he muttered.
His car had been vandalized. The wheels slashed.
He exhaled sharply, shoulders tense. "And my insurance won’t cover it again."
Vlad placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I’ll have Security check the CCTV first thing in the morning. And don’t worry about the cost—I’ll cover it. No need to pay me back."
"Vlad, I—"
"No arguments. You’re my best friend. Let me help."
Ian hesitated before nodding. "Thanks, Vlad. That means a lot."
"My chauffeur will be here soon—I’ll give you a lift home and call a tow truck for your car."
Ian exhaled, finally allowing some of the tension to fade. "Alright. Thanks again."
Vlad gave a small smile. "Anytime."
By the time Ian arrived home, Stacy was waiting for him, hands on her hips, eyes flashing behind her burgundy glasses.
"Ian Xavier Kent! Where have you been?"
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I’m fine, Stacy. And so will the car… eventually."
She crossed her arms. "What happened this time? Brake lines again? New windows?"
"Slashed tires," he admitted. "But Vlad’s handling it. He’s checking security footage and covering the cost if we need a new car. No strings attached."
Stacy frowned. "I just don’t want people at work thinking he’s playing favorites with us."
"Neither do I," Ian admitted. "But if the footage catches whoever’s been doing this, maybe the police can finally handle it."
Stacy’s lips thinned. "I hope so." A shadow crossed her face. "Though I don’t exactly trust the police to help us."
Ian knew exactly what she meant.
Last April, they had been pulled over for no reason on their way to a playground. The officer had spoken to Ian slowly, like he didn’t understand English.
He understood just fine. The issue wasn’t his comprehension—it was the color of his skin.
Neither Stacy’s family nor Ian’s had ever cared that they were a biracial couple. Their families loved Brooke unconditionally. But the outside world? That was another story.
Stacy had seen the looks when she took Brooke out. People cooed over her daughter’s curls, her adorable giggles—until they noticed her skin. Then came the whispers. The mumbled slurs.
Brooke was only three. She didn’t yet understand that the world would judge her for something as meaningless as her heritage. For now, her parents did everything they could to shield her from that reality.
"I’m going to check in with my family," Ian said after a moment. "Can you look in on Brooke?"
"Of course," Stacy said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Ian entered his daughter’s bedroom, the soft glow of a nightlight casting shadows on the walls. Brooke lay curled up under her blankets, her tiny face peaceful.
But something was missing.
Ian spotted it immediately—the stuffed animal his mother had sewn for Brooke’s first birthday.
He retrieved it and gently tucked it under his daughter’s arm, brushing his fingers through her soft curls before pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"Sleep well, my darling," he whispered.
Amber eyes fluttered open. "Daddy?"
Ian smiled. "Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?"
"It still hurts," she mumbled.
"I know, baby. Surgery takes time to heal. You just have to rest."
Brooke pouted. "I wish my powers could make me better."
Ian chuckled softly. "Sorry, sweetheart. You need to heal the old-fashioned way. Even Lilith told you—no using your gifts until you’re fully recovered."
"Okay…" she murmured sleepily.
"Go back to sleep, sweetie. Tomorrow will be better."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
As she drifted off, Ian stood and left, finding Stacy waiting for him in the kitchen with two cups of hot chocolate.
They sat together, talking long into the night.
Ian had faced racism all his life, back home in San Francisco. As a child, people had refused to stay at his parents’ B&B because they were Black. His sister had been bullied not just for her disabilities but for the color of her skin.
When Ian was twelve, someone threw a brick through their window. It had nearly hit Piper.
But his parents had never let hatred consume them. They had always chosen to rise above it.
And Stacy had been raised the same way. Her parents had taught her to judge people by character, not color. It hadn’t always been easy, but she refused to let the world make her bitter.
Vladco had built a workplace where none of that mattered. Where diversity was celebrated.
Maybe, one day, the world would be the same.
Maybe Martin Luther King Jr.’s dream would finally be reality.
Until then, they would keep fighting for a better world.
With love. With hope. With faith.
And with dreams.