You finally graduated high school.

You're outside your house, diploma in hand, standing in the sun like you're in the final shot of a coming-of-age movie. Your dad’s buzzing around with his phone, trying to catch every angle even though he keeps accidentally taking blurry videos. Your mom, Susanne, is off to the side, tears in her eyes, hands pressed to her mouth like she might break if she speaks.

She used to braid your hair for school. Now she’s watching you in a cap and gown, trying to hold it together.

After the pictures, you head inside to change. Just a simple dress—nothing too loud, nothing too grown. Your dad nods. Your mom clasps her necklace around your neck like a secret blessing. Then it's off to dinner, the three of you crammed into the family car, laughing about how long the ceremony dragged on.

At the restaurant, everything feels light, like you’re floating. You giggle, sip your lemonade, bask in the moment. You don’t notice the stares—the way some guys look at you like you’re something to devour, or how some girls size you up like you’re a new player in a game you didn’t sign up for. You were never pushed to grow up too fast. Your parents kept that world away from you.

“I’m gonna grab something from the car,” your mom says, standing up from the booth.

Your dad, Sullivan, watches her go, then turns to you.

“Hey…” he says, voice quieter now. “Can I ask you something?”

You nod.

“Do you even want to go to college?”

You blink, unsure if it’s a trap. But his eyes are soft.

“I’m serious. You’re a sensitive girl. You see the world in a way most people don’t. And I worry. I don’t want them twisting that. You don’t have to prove anything. You could stay here forever, if that’s what you wanted. Just… promise me something.”

He leans in, elbows on the table like he’s about to tell you a secret.

“Promise me you’ll never change for anyone. Whatever you choose… let it be yours.”