“I do. He’s extremely protective.”
My phone rings. “Speak of the devil.”
“You good to talk to him?”
I wave him away. “I can handle Sebastian. Go comment on the community Facebook page and create some drama.”
Drew laughs. “You know me too well.”
I answer the phone as Drew closes the door, knowing damn well I’ll be spending the next ten minutes trying to reassure my boyfriend that everything’s fine.
“Hey, babe.” My voice is infuriatingly calm. I can tell by the long pause before Sebastian blows out a sigh. His tone is full of frustration when he speaks.
I remain optimistic and cheerful, driving him crazy.
After we hang up, I resume writing my paper. Or trying. Deleting and retyping a sentence three times proves I’m not as happy and well-adjusted as I pretend to be.
I’m glad Drew showed me what Silas is up to.
But deep down, the thought of facing him in court was bad enough. Facing him with an insanity defense will be worse.
I’m not looking forward to it. At all.
EPILOGUE: IVY
Graduation caps are not designed for dignity.
Mine keeps sliding to the left, the tassel smacking me in the cheek every time I turn my head. I’ve adjusted it three times already, but Sebastian notices before I can try again.
“Hold still,” he murmurs, fingers careful as he straightens it. His movements are careful, like I might shatter otherwise.
I smile up at him. “You know the cap isn’t permanent, right?”
His mouth twitches. “I know.”
Drew snorts from my other side. “You don’t, actually. You look like you’re prepping her for surgery.”
Sebastian ignores him.
My dad stands a few feet back, hands in his pockets, watching us with that quiet, heavy look he gets when he’s emotional but refusing to advertise it. Elizabeth—the woman my dad once stalked—stands beside him, her arm linked casually through his. She meets my gaze and gives me a warm, genuine smile.
Found family. It still hits me sometimes how strange and right that feels.
I wasn’t going to attend my graduation since I took my courses online—but my family insisted. And now, standing in the auditorium in my cap and gown, I’m glad I listened.
Someone calls my name, and I step forward, heart hammering, the weight of the moment settling into my bones. When I cross the stage, applause breaks out—louder than I expect. I spot Sebastian immediately. He’s not clapping at first. He’s just staring at me like he’s imprinting the moment directly into his soul.
Then Drew elbows him, and he starts clapping like his life depends on it.
My dad and Elizabeth are waving and cheering so loudly that others in the audience laugh and join in.
Afterward, there are photos. Some of them are terrible. One where my eyes are closed. One where Drew is mid-blink. One where Mr. Pickles—yes, Drew absolutely snuck him in—looks like a judgmental gargoyle perched in Sebastian’s arms.
Elizabeth insists on taking one of us. He hugs me too tightly and mutters, “You did good, kid,” like it costs him something precious to say it.
Sebastian’s hand finds my lower back almost immediately afterward. Steady. Familiar. Real.
We go to dinner at a small place downtown. Nothing fancy. Warm lighting. Worn wood tables. The kind of place where you can hear laughter without it feeling intrusive.
