I accepted my diploma from the dean’s hands.

And I turned and looked out over the standing, roaring crowd, and I did not, even once, glance toward the two ashamed, silent, downturned figures in the third row.

For twenty-two years I had carried their cruelty in secret.

I had hidden the bruises of their resentment under a smooth face and a quiet laugh.

I had let them make me small so that they could feel big, had swallowed every insult and accepted every hand-me-down and let them treat my hardest, best work as an offense against the family name.

And it was over.