me.
“It was her.”
Now people weren’t just applauding.
Some were crying.
Including me.
The room became a blur.
Thirty-five years.
Thirty-five years of trying to help.
Most of it unnoticed.
Most of it forgotten.
And suddenly everyone knew.
Roy’s face had turned pale.
The confident grin was gone.
In its place was something else.
Realization.
The ugly kind.
The kind that arrives too late.
Mr. Whitaker slowly walked toward our table.
The microphone remained in his hand.
“You know what’s interesting, Roy?”
The room became silent again.
Roy swallowed.
