EpilogueThree Years LaterJulian
“Nora Esguerra!”
As the president of Stanford University calls out her name, I watch my wife walk across the stage, garbed in the same black cap and gown as the rest of the graduates. The robe billows around her petite frame, hiding the small, but already visible bump of her stomach—the child we both eagerly await this time.
Stopping in front of the university official, Nora shakes his hand to the sound of applause and then turns to smile for the camera, her delicate face glowing in the bright morning sun.
The flash goes off, startling me even though I knew it was coming.
Catching myself clutching the gun at my waist, I force my hand to uncurl and move away from the weapon. With a hundred of our best guards securing the field, my gun isn’t necessary. St
