***
The girls walked the college stage one after the other.
First they called Ava.
He started crying before his name had finished echoing through the speakers. I saw her wipe her face on the sleeve of that black dress and laugh at herself halfway across the stage.
Then Claire. My half, the wild.
He saw me in the crowd and waved with both hands, as he used to greet from the school bus window when he was eight. I stepped back with enthusiasm.
First they called Ava.
Finally, June arrived.
She didn’t smile, but walked through that scenario the same way she had walked through her entire life, as if she were carrying something heavier than the rest of us could see. Something heavier than a diploma.
I picked up the camera. The shutter clicked. That was supposed to be the end.
Then the dean took a step back towards the microphone and hit him twice.
