Then he entered the house.
Silence greeted him.
For years, he had dreamed of silence.
Now he hated it.
There was no fighting over the bathroom.
No footsteps.
No music coming through walls.
No one shouting, “Uncle Noah, where are my keys?”
He walked into the kitchen.
Three empty chairs surrounded the table.
For years Noah had imagined that once the girls became independent, he would feel free.
Instead, he felt unnecessary.
“They’re going to be okay,” he whispered.
He believed it.
What he didn’t know was whether he would be.
Graduation Day
Four years later, Noah watched three twenty-two-year-old women cross a graduation stage.
When Emma’s name was announced, he applauded until his hands hurt.
When Lily crossed, he stood.
By the time Grace received her diploma, Noah was crying openly.
As he watched them, he couldn’t stop seeing the hospital nursery.
Three bassinets.
Three tiny babies.
Three children who had once depended on him for everything.
