“I used to think invisibility was safety,” he said. “Now I know visibility is power when you use it to help others. I want every kid who feels small to see that knowledge is not for the chosen. It is for anyone who pays attention. Anyone who cares.”
Applause unfurled across the courtyard like sunlight. Coleman toddled across the stage and reached for Jermaine’s pant leg. Jermaine lifted him, the baby’s tiny hand gripping his shirt. The heartbeat against his chest was steady. Strong. Alive.
Jermaine looked at the sky and thought of Miss Inez. “I am still paying attention,” he whispered, so softly only the wind heard.
Then he faced the crowd with a steadiness he had earned. He was no longer a shadow in a hallway. He was Jermaine Carterson, student of science, grandson of a healer, a bridge built of courage. And his story was only beginning.
