Page 68

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

THE AKANAS

“Hurry,” Amy says, tugging Ken’s hand as they maneuver through the crowd at Stevens Stadium. She looks up at the masses. The bleachers are jammed with families of the graduates. Bright music from the marching band wafts through the air. Their flight from Heathrow was late, and they nearly missed the entire ceremony.

Ken pulls her to a stop.

“Hurry, we—”

He interrupts her with a kiss.

She marvels that this is the famously punctual, even persnickety, No Drama Akana. That’s what they used to call him before he retired from the bench. Before he and Amy sold everything and became wanderers, going from one small town in Europe to the next.

Talking.

Holding hands.

Laughing. Finally laughing again.

They clumsily make their way along the crowded bleachers until someone generously makes room for them to sit. Otherwise, no one is paying them any mind. Just a few years ago all eyes would’ve been on them. Because Ken presided over the Rock Nelson trial. Or because they were the parents of one of The Five. Or because Ken had killed Amy’s stalker. But internet fame is, thankfully, fleeting.

Ken folds her hand into his as they gaze down at the graduates below. They’ve missed the remarks of the dean, the valedictorian’s speech, the commencement speaker. But that’s okay, they made it in time for the grand finale, when the students walk across the stage.

Amy feels a lump rising in her throat. After everything they’ve been through, Libby is graduating.

“There she is!” Amy cries, spotting Libby in the procession line near the stage. Amy soaks in the vision of her daughter in her shiny gown, her hair draped over one shoulder. Since the trauma of her freshman year, Libby doesn’t have the same sparkle. None of them are the same. But they found their way through.

When the announcer calls Libby’s name, Amy and Ken jump to their feet. And Ken turns and kisses Amy again.

Later, in the chaos of everyone finding their graduates, Libby wades though the crowd. Ken races up to her, hugs her, and spins her around.

“Daaaad,” Libby protests, but Amy can tell she likes it.

Ken asks his girls to pose for a picture.

As he fumbles with his phone, Libby says, “What’s gotten into him?”

Amy smiles.

“No,” Libby corrects, “what’s gotten into you ?”

“We’re just, I don’t know… happy .”

Libby’s smile reaches her eyes. Her posture straightens like a weight has been lifted. She looks over at her dad, who is talking to another parent.

“Mom,” she says. “I have something to tell you.”

Amy examines her daughter. She’s holding Amy’s gaze with those pretty eyes.

“Anything.”

“I’m not going to law school.”

This is a surprise. Her grand plan since she was a kid was to go to a good college, attend an Ivy League law school, and become a judge like her father. She’s even been accepted to Yale.

“No?”

“I got a job.”

Amy smiles.

“It’s for St. Jude’s.”

Amy’s throat thickens. She can’t speak. The cancer center that not only provides the best treatment for kids but covers the expenses for families that need it.

“I want to help people—people like us.”

Ken comes back over. “You ready to get some food?”

They both nod.

Amy finds her voice. It’s laced with something she recognizes as pride. “Libby has some important news.”

She tells him, and Ken gives her another whirling hug, and Libby laughs—a laugh Amy hasn’t heard since before their family was overtaken by despair.

Yes, they really did find their way through.