His brows knitted together as another strange case of déjà vu fell over him. The name written underneath was a familiar one. Those words—it was as if he could hear the distant voice of the girl speaking them. Though he could not distinctly recall the individual, the message’s significance was palpable. He knew, somehow, deep down, that if he brought Caroline to America, it would work out. The journey would be a long one, but the adjustment would be minor in the grand scheme of their adventure.
They would go to New York.
“William? Are you well?”
If Caroline had said something before this, he hadn’t been listening.
“I am,” he said. “I’ve never felt more certain.”
His fingertip traced the ink, the lettering oddly unique compared to his own looping scrawl. Another familiar pull snagged within the depths of his memory, its shape faint and flickering. What was it? Why could he not place it?
“If you are certain, then so am I.”
A smile graced his lips. “Home will be here, for whenever we do wish to return. You are what matters.”
And then, all at once, he knew. He remembered. All of it.
“New York,” he said aloud, breathless.
Caroline’s face glowed. “New York.”
There was a life waiting for them both.
He knew exactly where to find it.
Epilogue
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May 16, 2026, 9:00 a.m.
Dearest Delaney,
Happy graduation day, darling.
If you asked me to paint a picture of what today might look like, I’d imagine your mother flustered with pride while internally stressing about getting your siblings out the door on time. This remained our biggest struggle as parents of three, though there was often joy in the challenge.Somuch joy, and so often. Madelene, of course, is fussing over what she’s wearing, maybe she’s even changed her footwear several times (to your mother’s great dismay), while Jared reminds your mother auditorium seats are assigned. But she’ll want to rush anyway. To get there, to anticipate. To jump tothe moment, the one you’ve worked all these years for, where she’ll get that perfect view of you walking across the stage.
And then there’s you, Delaney. If I were there, I would turn to your mother and say, “Lord, Natalie, how has she grown up so fast? These years flew by in a matter of months.” But there you are, elegant andcomposed and assured in the choices you’ve made. I know they are good ones. And even if they’re not, even if you’ve found yourself on a path you no longer want to follow, know that you will find your way. It’s normal and it’s life, my darling. You will be just fine.
I imagine you there up on that stage searching the crowd because you hear your family before you spot them. Loud, energetic, animated. The spirited fanfare they’ve reserved only for you because they’re proud.Soproud. Your mother must have told you this dozens of times today, hasn’t she? Well, in case it hasn’t been overstated, allow me to say it once more: we are proud of you. Not just today, but always. Through your wins and losses, peaks and valleys. Through those inevitable plateaus. Know, sweetheart, that whatever you’ve accomplished within these last four years is enough.
Today, soak in everything you’ve achieved. I hope it’s full of laughter and happiness and love. And I hope that, when you think of me, it’s with more joy than despair. I hope it’s in quiet moments of intentional pause. We often look ahead at all the nexts that are to come, but darling, don’t ever forget to look up. Enjoy the view. It is endless and grounding and majestic, full of extraordinary possibilities.
Can you do something for me? Remind your mother to slow down. To enjoy the process, not just the progress.
It’s okay to be afraid of what comes next. Did I ever tell you I almost didn’t accept the teaching position at Ivernia when they hired me? Simply because I was afraid of leaving the comfort of home. But, oh, how much I would have missed out on if I had stayed behind.
Take the leap. Do the big thing, and do it with fearless wonder.
I love you, always.
Forever in your corner,
Dad
May 16, 2026, 11:53 p.m.
Dad,
