He stepped aside.
“If you still want to walk with your brother, you may.”
Emma adjusted Felix’s graduation cap and carried him toward the stage.
As she approached, one student stood and began clapping. Then another stood, followed by more of the graduating class.
Soon, the gym was filled with applause.
Nobody laughed.
William handed Emma her diploma.
“Congratulations, Emma.”
She accepted it with one hand, holding Felix’s cutout with the other.
Through my tears, I took a photograph I had imagined taking years earlier: my daughter in her blue cap and gown, standing beside her smiling twin brother.
After the ceremony, several classmates apologized for laughing. Others shared memories of Felix, remembering his funny cartoons, his help with math homework, and his determination to keep up with school despite his illness.
William also apologized to us and suggested creating a permanent memorial at the school. Emma agreed, but reminded him that she wished he had listened before graduation day.
