Graduation robes were never designed to be flattering. Mine hung like a dark curtain, the cap wobbling precariously on my curls no matter how many pins I shoved into it. Yet when I caught my reflection in the mirror that morning, I didn’t care.
Because today wasn’t about how I looked. It was about everything it took to get here.
The failures. The betrayals. The nights I thought my heart would break under the weight of Adrian’s absence. The mornings I forced myself to stand, to walk, to fight when it would’ve been easier to crumble.
And somehow, against every odd stacked against me—I had made it.
Crystal burst into my dorm room, unapologetically late as always. Her robe was half-zipped, lipstick freshly smeared, heels clutched in her hands. “Don’t you dare start crying before me, Nova.
