The paper was soft along the folds.
I read it once more.
Then I thought about Callan.
Would the girls mention him during graduation?
Would they wish he were there?
Would seeing their classmates surrounded by parents remind them of everything they had lost?
I returned the note to my wallet and stepped into the heat.
The ceremony took place at Willowcrown College, a fictional campus on the edge of Bramblewick.
The auditorium smelled of floor polish, flowers, and perfume.
I sat in the seventh row with the camera balanced against my bad knee.
Twenty-two years had led to that morning.
Still, I felt as nervous as I had the first night I held three bottles and three crying babies.
The triplets crossed the stage one after another.
Liora was called first.
She began crying before the announcer finished saying her name.
She wiped her face on the sleeve of her gown and laughed at herself as she accepted the diploma.
Then came Carys.
She spotted me in the crowd and waved with both hands, exactly as she had from the school bus window when she was eight.
I waved back too enthusiastically and nearly struck the woman beside me with the camera.
Maisie came last.
She walked with the same quiet determination she had carried since childhood.
She did not smile until the diploma was in her hands.
I lifted the camera.
The shutter clicked.
I thought that was the end.
Then the dean returned to the microphone.
“We have one final presentation.”
I lowered the camera.
My three girls walked back onto the stage together.
They held hands like they had when they were five and crossing busy car parks.
Something tightened in my chest.
Maisie stepped toward the microphone.
“Our father could not be here today.”
My stomach dropped.
Callan.
