Not the quiet tears she had shed alone in Felix’s bedroom. These were deep, exhausted sobs that seemed to come from somewhere inside her that had been locked away for two years.
I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around her.
She held me tightly.
“I missed him so much today,” she whispered.
“I know, sweetheart.”
“When everyone laughed, I wanted to run away.”
I closed my eyes.
“I was afraid you would.”
“But I couldn’t.”
She pulled back and wiped her face.
“I kept thinking about how he would have reacted. He would have hated the cardboard. He would have said I made his head too big.”
I laughed through my tears.
“He probably would have.”
“And he would have complained that I got my diploma before him.”
“Definitely.”
For a moment, we smiled together.
Then Emma’s expression changed.
“Mom, can I tell you something?”
“Anything.”
“When I finally got the diploma, I was happy.”
