* Jana *
A glimpse of the past.....
Graduation day smelled like sun-warmed stone and old books. My robe didn't fit quite right, it was too long in the sleeves, and the hem dragged with each step, but I wore it proudly. Leticia pinned a brooch over my heart, a small thing made of silver and glass beads. It had belonged to her mother, she said.
"You earned this," she told me, her fingers brushing my cheek before letting go.
Mateo hooted the loudest when my name was called, his voice echoing across the courtyard. I laughed through my tears. I walked that stage not just for me, but for Mom. For Geraldine. Even for the brother I hadn't seen in years.
After the ceremony, Leticia handed me a folded piece of paper. On it, scrawled in her tight, loopy handwriting, were names. Shelters. Offices
