After the incident at the Colemans', Elena never returned to borrowed homes again.
She moved in with Maya, her father's daughter from a different mother — technically her stepsister, though they'd never used that word before. Maya had always hovered on the periphery of family gatherings: composed, quiet, not warm but not cold either. They hadn't grown up together. They barely knew each other.
But after Margaret's funeral, Maya approached Elena with an unexpected offer.
"I live about forty minutes from Northwynn," she'd said. "It's just me. If you need a place to stay—during breaks or even full-time—you're welcome."
Elena had stared at her, stunned.
"Why?" she'd asked.
"Because we share a last name. And I'm not an asshole."
And that was that.
Maya lived in a spotless one-bedroom apartment in the outer edges of downtown Northwynn. The walls were painted ivory, the furniture minimal but soft, and the scent of lemon wood polish lingered constantly in the air. She worked in supply chain operations for a logistics firm and treated her schedule like gospel—early mornings, meal-prepped lunches, quiet evenings with a book or the news.
She made a place for Elena without fanfare. Folded towels in the linen closet. Cleared space in the fridge. Added a second toothbrush to the holder in the bathroom.
No questions. No awkward heart-to-hearts. Just presence.
Elena, for the first time since losing her mother, began to feel stable.
The years passed in slow but steady rhythm.
She poured herself into school, clinging to the structure it gave her. She worked at the campus library in the evenings, graded math papers on weekends, and came home to Maya's apartment most nights of the week. She no longer felt like a guest. This was home—even if only for now.
Maya never tried to mother her. That was what Elena liked most.
She gave advice when asked, space when needed, and support without strings.
It wasn't the same as love.
But it was safe.
In her final year at Northwynn, everything began to accelerate.
Graduate recruiters started showing up on campus. Deadlines for fellowships, jobs, and programs loomed like storm clouds. Elena applied for every opportunity she could find, unsure of what she wanted but terrified of standing still.
And then, in the middle of all that chaos, she got a call.
Diana.
It had been months since they last spoke. The last time was brief—Elena had sent a thank-you email after securing her third year's scholarship renewal. Diana had replied with a short but sweet message, her usual warmth condensed into a few lines.
Now, her voice was faint over the phone, like it had traveled through fog to reach her.
"I'm so sorry I've been out of touch," Diana said, coughing gently between sentences. "Things have been… complicated."
Elena sat down on the edge of her bed. "Are you okay?"
"I will be. Just some health stuff. Nothing too scary."
A lie. But Elena didn't know it yet.
"I wanted to say," Diana continued, "I got your graduation invitation. And I'll be there."
"You don't have to—"
"I'm coming."
She meant it.
The ceremony was held in late May.
It was warm that day—light wind, sun peeking through thin clouds. Elena stood in her robe, cap slightly crooked, heart pounding as she listened to her name echo across the loudspeakers.
"Elena Margaret Hart — Bachelor of Science, Applied Mathematics, Honors."
Applause. Her name. Her mother's name.
She walked across the stage and didn't cry—until she turned and saw Diana.
Seated two rows from the front, pale and thinner than she remembered, but smiling.
Truly smiling.
She looked frail. Her skin had a yellowish tint. A scarf wrapped loosely around her head, trying to hide what illness had already taken.
But she was there.
She had come.
Afterward, they sat on a bench near the rose garden outside the auditorium while Maya took photos of Elena with her classmates.
Diana sipped water slowly, her hands trembling slightly.
"You didn't tell me you were sick," Elena said quietly.
Diana looked out over the roses. "You were busy surviving. I didn't want to add weight to your shoulders."
Elena didn't know what to say.
Diana reached into her bag and pulled out a tiny silver box, the kind that held jewelry or secrets.
"This was your mother's. She left it at my place once when we were still interns. I meant to return it. Never did."
Inside the box was a thin chain necklace. Simple, gold. With a tiny shell pendant.
Elena swallowed. "I don't remember this."
"She wore it in college. She said it reminded her to keep going. To stay soft."
Elena closed the lid and held it in her lap. "Are you going to be okay?"
Diana didn't answer right away.
"We're still figuring it out," she said eventually. "The doctors say it's manageable. But I'll need surgery. Soon."
Elena nodded slowly.
She didn't press. Diana had come. That was enough for now.
That summer, Elena moved out of Maya's apartment and started job hunting full-time.
She didn't know it then, but everything was about to change—again.