Caps flew into the air. Cheers erupted. Families rushed forward.
And I slipped out quietly through a side door.
Rebecca was waiting in the reception area.
“You did it,” she said, pulling me into a hug.
“I did.”
She stepped back slightly, studying my face. “How do you feel?”
I thought about it. Really thought.
“Free.”
Daniel appeared a moment later, still looking a little stunned.
“Julia, that was—I mean…”
He exhaled. “Wow. I had no idea.”
He hesitated. “Your family… are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“They’re asking to see you.”
My stomach tightened slightly. “Who?”
“Your parents. They’re by the side entrance. They want to talk.”
“Do I have to?”
“Absolutely not,” Daniel said immediately. “I can call security.”
I shook my head. “No.”
I straightened my posture. “I’ll talk to them. On my terms.”
A pause.
“Five minutes. That’s it.”
Rebecca squeezed my hand gently. “I’ll be right here.”
I nodded, then turned and walked toward the past I had left behind thirteen years ago.
They were standing near a pillar. My father looked gray, hollow. My mother’s makeup was smeared, her face drawn. Khloe stood slightly behind them, eyes red.
I stopped a few feet away. Not too close. Professional distance.
“You wanted to talk?”
My father opened his mouth, closed it, tried again.
“Julia. We… we didn’t know you’d be here.”
“I’m sure you didn’t.”
“You look…” my mother’s voice broke. “You look well.”
“I am well,” I said evenly. “Rebecca made sure of that.”
She had followed me, standing just behind me—quiet, protective.
My father’s eyes flicked toward her, then away.
“We owe you an apology,” he said.
“You owe me more than that,” I replied calmly. “But an apology is a start.”
“We made a mistake,” my mother said quickly. “A terrible mistake. We should have listened.”
“You should have protected me,” I cut in.
My tone stayed level. Controlled.
“That’s what parents are supposed to do.”
I didn’t cross my arms, didn’t step back, didn’t shut down.
“You chose Khloe’s lie over my truth,” I continued. “You called me sick. You threw me out into a storm.”
Khloe flinched. Tears slid down her face.
“We were wrong,” my father said, his voice cracking. “I was wrong.”
He swallowed hard.
“I’ve regretted that night every single day for thirteen years.”
“Good.”
The word landed sharp and heavy.
“Can we talk?” my mother reached out slightly. “Privately? As a family?”
“We’re not a family,” I said gently.
Not cruel. Just true.
“You made that clear thirteen years ago.”
“But we can fix this,” my father said, desperation creeping in. “We can. We want to fix it.”
“There’s nothing to fix.”
I held his gaze.
“You made your choice. I made mine.”
“We’re done, Julia.”
Khloe’s voice, quiet and broken.
“I’m sorry. I was twelve. I didn’t understand. I didn’t—”
“You were old enough to know what you were doing.”
Daniel approached then, holding a folder.
“Julia, these are the scholarship applications for next semester. President Walsh asked me to get them to you before you left.”
