She spotted me in the crowd and waved with both hands, exactly as she had from the school bus window when she was eight.
I waved back too enthusiastically and nearly struck the woman beside me with the camera.
Maisie came last.
She walked with the same quiet determination she had carried since childhood.
She did not smile until the diploma was in her hands.
I lifted the camera.
The shutter clicked.
I thought that was the end.
Then the dean returned to the microphone.
“We have one final presentation.”
I lowered the camera.
My three girls walked back onto the stage together.
They held hands like they had when they were five and crossing busy car parks.
Something tightened in my chest.
Maisie stepped toward the microphone.
“Our father could not be here today.”
My stomach dropped.
