I mentioned the storm, but I didn’t let it swallow the essay.

My teacher read it and said, “This sounds like you.”

That compliment meant more than any award.

On the last day of the school year, I sat on Colleen’s porch with my acceptance letters and listened to children playing on the next street.

Nothing about the evening was dramatic.

I could see my future without needing to know whether Dad would approve.

PART 22