“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Cami whispered, leaning close so I could hear her over the dean’s opening remarks.
I grinned at her. “You doubted us?”
“I doubtedyou,” she shot back, but her eyes were sparkling. “Remember freshman year when you almost dropped out to become a professional apple picker?”
“That was amoment of crisis,” I hissed back, trying not to laugh. “And you talked me out of it.”
“Damn right I did.” She squeezed my shoulder. “We made it, Frankie.”
“We made it,” I echoed, and the weight of those words settled over me like a blanket.
Ten years ago, I’d been twelve years old, hiding in the woods with Nox, convinced that running away was the only way to force my parents to see what was right in front of them. Ten years ago, I’d been terrified and determined and so sure that if I could just get them in the same place, everything would work out.
I’d been right.
But I’d had no idea how much more there was to come.
The dean droned on about achievements and potential and the future stretching before us like an open road. I let the words wash over me, my mind drifting back through the years, through all the moments that had brought me here.
I was two years old when my dad came into my life for the first time.
I remembered a deep voice that rumbled like thunder but felt safe. Big hands that were gentle when they held me. Eyes that looked at me like I was something precious.
And the bunny.
God, that bunny. Soft and gray with floppy ears and button eyes. He’d given it to me, and I’d clutched it like a lifeline, like it was the most important thing in the world.
Because somehow, even at two, I’d known.
This man matters.
And then he was gone.
Ten years later, he walked back into our lives to fix a leaky sink.
I recognized him immediately.
His voice. His eyes. The way he moved. It all came rushing back, not as clear memories, but as feelings, as certainty.
This is him. This is my family.
My biological father.
“Francesca Reynolds.”
My name echoed through the auditorium, and I blinked, pulled abruptly back to the present. Cami nudged me, grinning, and I stood on shaky legs.
This was it.
I walked across the stage, my heels clicking against the wood, and shook the dean’s hand. Accepted my diploma. Smiled for the camera.
And then I looked out into the audience.
They were all there.
Mom, sitting in the front row, tears streaming down her face. Dad beside her, his arm around her shoulders, his expression so proud it brought tears to my eyes.
And my sisters.
