I had not seen them in fifteen years. My father had lost most of his hair. My mother looked smaller and nervous. They scanned the graduates, probably searching for Emily Parker.
They did not yet understand that the name printed in the program was Emily Rivera.
The ceremony moved slowly. Speeches. Applause. Music.
Then the Dean stepped to the microphone.
“It is my honor to introduce our valedictorian. She graduates at the top of her class and has completed outstanding research in pediatric oncology. Ladies and gentlemen, Dr. Emily Rivera.”
The arena erupted.
I rose and walked toward the podium.
When I looked down at the VIP section, Karen and Richard were frozen. My mother covered her mouth. My father’s face turned pale. They were finally connecting the truth.
I adjusted the microphone.
“Thank you, Dean,” I began. “To the faculty, families, distinguished guests, and my fellow graduates—congratulations.”
The crowd applauded politely.
I gripped the podium.
