He shifted in his seat, his eyes locking onto mine.

Helen stopped adjusting her pearls and frowned.

She did not like me speaking of ethics to a room full of future venture capitalists.

She had spent twenty years preparing Derek to lead the family’s investment interests.

My solar startup, Solar Reach, was a nuisance to her, a distraction from the real business of wealth.

“Do not let your ambition become a cage,” I said, finishing my notes.

“Congratulations, Class of 2026.”

The applause began, rising in a wave from the front rows.

I stepped back from the microphone, my chest tight.

I kept my eyes on Derek as I walked toward the heavy velvet curtains at the side of the stage.

He was clapping slowly, his expression sober.

The backstage area was cool and smelled of old paint and dust.

My assistant, Priya, met me near the dressing rooms with a bottle of water and a clipboard.

“You did well, Dr. Mitchell,” she said, her voice quiet amid the muffled roar of the crowd outside.

“Thank you, Priya,” I said, taking a sip.

My hands were shaking slightly.

“The dean wants to know if you will be attending the VIP reception in twenty minutes,” she said.

“I need a few minutes of quiet first,” I replied.

“Your mother called your phone three times while you were on stage,” Priya added, handing me the device.

I looked down at the dark screen.

Just as I reached for it, the heavy wooden door leading to the backstage corridor clicked.

It swung open slowly.

A shadow fell across the concrete floor.

The shadow lengthened.

It was Derek.

He still wore his black graduation gown, but he had unzipped it, revealing his blue silk tie.

He stopped in the doorway, his hand resting on the heavy brass handle.

“Priya said I could come back,” he said.