Principal Nguyen smiled warmly, handed her the certificate, and whispered, “Congratulations, Lila. You earned this.”
She nodded, lips trembling, and turned to walk off stage.
That’s when she heard it.
A single, deep voice rose above the polite scattering of claps.
“That’s my girl! Way to go, Lila!”
Lila’s head snapped toward the sound.
Elliot Vance was on his feet in the fifth row, clapping so hard his hands must have stung. He was tall enough that several people turned to see who was making so much noise. Then—maybe because of his expensive suit, maybe because his smile looked so proud—other parents started standing too. The applause grew. Not pity applause. Real applause. For her.
She almost tripped going down the steps.
When the ceremony ended and families spilled into the aisles for hugs and photos, Lila hesitated near the edge of the crowd. She half-expected Elliot to be gone already, called away by some urgent phone call or important meeting.
But he was pushing through the sea of people straight toward her.
Before she could say anything, he dropped to one knee so they were eye-to-eye and pulled her into a hug.