My phone screen fills with faces. Mom and Dad in the kitchen at their place. Alder in his apartment, Lena visible over his shoulder. Gunnar at what looks like Stag Law's office. Odin and various other Stag cousins all crammed into one frame.
"Did we miss it?" Mom asks urgently.
"It’s all happening." I move behind Sloane's bed, one hand on her shoulder. "We're about to flip the tassel."
Dr. Khan steps forward with a dignity that makes this bedroom feel like a grand auditorium. "Sloane Campbell, having fulfilled all requirements for the degree, I am pleased to present you with a Bachelor of Science in Public Health from Pittsburgh University."
She hands over the diploma—actual parchment, embossed with a gold seal, completely official because I made about seventeen phone calls to get it handled in January, even though the semester technically ended in December.
Sloane takes it with shaking hands, staring at her name printed in formal script.
"Now the tassel," Dr. Newman says, and there's actual warmth in her voice. "Go on and turn it, Ms. Campbell. You've earned it."
Sloane reaches up and moves the tassel from right to left. The simple gesture feels monumental.
"Congratulations, graduate," I whisper, leaning down to kiss the top of her capped head.
The phone erupts with cheers. My family is whooping and clapping, and I can hear Mom actually crying. Stellan is recording everything on his own phone, probably for some Stag family archive.
Mel wheels closer and takes Sloane's hand. "I knew you could do it."
"I couldn't have without you." Sloane squeezes back. "Any of you."
"Speech!" Odin calls from the phone screen.
"No speech," I say firmly, but Sloane shakes her head.
"It's okay." She looks around the room—at Mel, at her professors,at Stellan, at the phone full of Stags. Then her eyes find mine. "I spent most of my life thinking I had to do everything alone. That asking for help was a weakness, that depending on people meant losing myself." Her voice steadies. "But this degree, these babies, this life I'm building—none of it would be possible without all of you. Without Tucker showing up every single day, even when I pushed him away. Without my professors extending deadlines and believing I could finish. Without Mel being the sister I never had." She pauses. "I'm graduating today because I finally learned that accepting help isn't giving up control. It's building a foundation strong enough to hold all of us."
I'm not crying. I'm absolutely not crying in front of everyone.
"I want to say thank you while I still can. Thank you for showing me what family means."
"Okay, now I'm crying," Mom announces from the phone.
"Me too," Lena admits.
"Group hug!" Odin yells, and several Stags pile into the frame, all of them laughing.
Dr. Newman clears her throat. "Well. This has been highly irregular, but also deeply moving." She adjusts her regalia. "Ms. Campbell, I expect great things from you in your career. You have a gift for seeing systemic problems others miss."
"And for asking questions that make people uncomfortable," Dr. Khan adds with a smile. "The field of public health needs more of that."
They say their goodbyes and slip out, and I start to usher everyone else toward the door. "Okay, graduate needs rest?—"
"Tucker." Sloane's voice is strange. Tight.
I turn back. She's gripping the edge of the overbed table, her face suddenly pale.
"What's wrong?" I'm at her side instantly.
"I think..." She looks down. "I think my water just broke."
For a second, nobody moves. Then everything happens at once.
Mel is on her phone, calling Dr. Patel and grabbing the hospital bag we've had packed for weeks. The French horn player is clearing a path to the door. My phone screen is chaos as my family starts yelling advice and congratulations at once.
"Okay." I force myself to stay calm even though my heart is trying to punch through my chest. "Okay, we've practiced this. We know what to do."
