But as the minister spoke his final words, I turned and signaled for her to come forward.

Prudence gave a gentle, knowing nod as my mother walked slowly toward us.

For the first time in twenty-four years, she did not have to watch her daughter from the shadows.

She stood right beside me, her shoulder resting against mine, as the polished casket was lowered into the earth.

The gesture was small — a turn of the head, a lifted hand, an invitation to step out of the treeline.

But I understood, making it, that I was doing something Clement had spent his whole life unable to do.