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.
They were going to speak about Callan.
Twenty-two years of missed birthdays.
One telephone call.
A few cards.
And now, on the day I had actually shown up for, they would honor the man who had not.
The hurt rose in my throat.
I told myself not to be selfish.
If they needed to speak about their biological father, I would let them.
Liora pulled a folded sheet of paper from the sleeve of her graduation gown.
Carys pressed one hand over her mouth.
Her shoulders were already shaking.
Maisie continued.
“We found a notebook in the back of the kitchen drawer.”
My breath caught.
The notebook.
For years, I had written to them after they went to sleep.
Birthdays.
First days of school.
Nights when I believed I had failed them.
I never planned for them to read it while I was alive.
Maisie unfolded the page.
