Eleanor attended in a wheelchair.
When Tommy crossed the stage—tall, confident, smiling—I remembered the ten-year-old boy gripping that USB drive.
After the ceremony, he took a photo with me, another with Joe, and one with his grandparents.
Then he looked at us.
“I want one with both my parents.”
Joe and I exchanged a glance and stood on either side of our son.
The photographer asked us to smile.
We did.
Not as a perfect family.
Not pretending nothing had happened.
But as three people who had survived something broken
