Chapter 18
Luke was accepted to college in Boston.
Social work and law.
He said he wanted to help kids no one believed.
I said he could run the world if he wanted.
He said, “That sounds exhausting.”
Smart boy.
The night the acceptance letter came, Grace made too much food.
Rosa made two cakes.
Lucia brought lavender.
Rocco brought a ridiculous briefcase.
Luke opened it and laughed.
“I’m not a lawyer yet.”
“Practice looking annoyed,” Rocco said. “It helps.”
I watched him surrounded by people who had chosen truth over comfort.
Not perfect people.
But present ones.
Later, Luke found me in the study.
“Are you sad I’m leaving?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to act normal about it?”
“Probably not.”
He smiled.
“I figured.”
He looked at the framed photo on my shelf.
“Do you think Mom would like Boston?”
“She would say the winters are rude.”
He laughed.
Then grew serious.
“I’m scared.”
“Of college?”
“Of leaving and coming back different.”
“That is the point.”
“What if I stop fitting here?”
I looked around the study.
The old power room.
Now full of photos, court documents, school awards, and one crooked drawing Luke made of the lavender garden.
“Then we change the shape of here.”
His eyes softened.
“You make that sound easy.”
“It won’t be. We’ll do it anyway.”
Before he left, he asked to visit Milena.
I hated the idea.
But he was eighteen.
It was his choice.
I went with him.
Milena looked older.
Still sharp.
Still empty.
Luke sat across from her.
“You don’t scare me anymore,” he said.
She smiled thinly.
“Then why come?”
“To see if I still hated you.”
“And?”
He thought about it.
“No. I pity you.”
Her face twisted.
“That is worse.”
“I know.”
He stood.
“You called me a stray. But I found my home. You never did.”
We left.
Outside, he breathed deep.
“I’m ready now.”
For Boston.
May you like
For life.
For whatever came after survival.
