We walked down the aisle. My siblings noticed him one by one. Chloe, who had never known him, stared like he was a stranger from a story.
Mom sat mid-row, twisting her program. He slipped into a seat behind us.
The ceremony began. Names were called. Families cheered. Then a slideshow flickered onto the screen.
Students in scrubs, hugging loved ones.
Then Mom.
A photo of her mopping an office hallway in a faded T-shirt, a stroller behind her with a sleeping toddler and a textbook propped on the handle. Another of her at our kitchen table, highlighter in hand at 2 a.m.
I heard him inhale sharply behind me.
The dean stepped to the microphone. “Tonight, we present our Student of the Decade award. This student began as a single mother of ten children. She worked nights, raised her family, and never missed a clinical.”
I felt him flinch.
“She maintained one of our highest GPAs. Please join me in honoring Rebecca.”
We shot to our feet, screaming and clapping through tears. Mom looked stunned, then rose and walked to the stage.
“I don’t really know what to say,” she began, voice shaking. “Ten years ago, I was scared and exhausted.”
The dean smiled. “And her eldest daughter has a few words.”