Chapter 2

When Grant came home, Maya had already placed the photograph on the dining table.

She and I stood in the foreground.

Behind us, he looked like the father of someone else’s family.

He stopped when he saw it. “Why did you leave without me? I looked for you in the parking lot.”

Maya sat at the table with her phone beneath one hand. The graduation ticket portal was still open on the screen. “How long did you stay and take pictures with them?”

“Not long. Owen’s father canceled at the last minute, and the kid was humiliated.” Grant set down his keys. “I only helped him get through the event.”

“And after that?”

“Celeste wanted one picture. She just went through a divorce. Tonight was hard for both of them.”

He looked at me, waiting for me to explain it to Maya in the gentler language I always used.

Her father had a kind heart. Owen had no one else. A family shouldn’t fight over a few minutes.

This was how it always worked.

Grant gave me the facts, and I rearranged them until his choice sounded reasonable.

By the time I finished, Maya was expected to forgive him.

But Maya’s fingers kept tracing the edge of the photograph.

She was watching to see whether I would cover the wound for him again.

“Nora,” Grant prompted. “You know what the situation was.”

I slipped my hands into my pockets. “I know you promised to walk in with Maya. I also know where you chose to stand.”

His expression hardened. “So now you’re calling one act of kindness a betrayal too?”

Maya pushed the photograph toward him. “You didn’t miss the event, Dad. You were there. You saw me waiting, and then you chose them.”

Grant pulled out the chair beside her, but Maya picked up her backpack and went into the living room.

“Don’t make decisions while you’re angry,” he said, following her.

“I’m not angry.” Maya opened her laptop. “I’m tired of calculating whether you’re going to show up.”

The graduation ticket portal filled the screen.

Each senior received two named floor passes for family members and four general-admission tickets that would be issued closer to graduation. Under Family Floor Passes, two names were listed: Grant Hale and Nora Hale.

Grant stood behind her. “Canceling my floor pass won’t solve anything.”

“At least it solves the problem of one empty chair.”

Maya clicked the cancellation box beside his name. A warning appeared:

This family-floor pass cannot be restored after tickets are released. Continue?

She clicked Confirm.

Grant Hale disappeared from the page. Only my name remained.

My chest tightened.

In the past, I would have stopped her. I would have worried about hurting Grant, about questions from relatives, about a decision made in anger becoming a permanent regret.

Those fears had kept me repairing every relationship in our house.

They had also protected Grant from the consequences of never arriving when he said he would.

The confirmation window appeared.

I didn’t reach for the computer.

Maya picked up her phone and left our family group chat.

Grant stared at the gray notification.

For the first time that night, he stopped talking about Owen.

He turned to me. “You’re really going to let her do this?”

“It’s her graduation.”

My laptop chimed.

The confirmation email had arrived in my inbox. Under Family Floor Passes, there was only one active name.

Nora Hale.