He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small set of brass keys on a leather ring.

“I’m giving the apartment back to her next week.”

I stared at the keys in his palm.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“She will use that to hurt you.”

“Let her,” he said, his jaw tightening.

“I need to stand on my own feet.”

“I need to start holding myself accountable for my own life, Sarah.”

He put the keys back in his pocket.

“I want to earn my own way, even if it means failing.”

I felt a sudden, sharp wave of relief, followed by a lingering worry.

“She won’t make it easy for you,” I warned him.

“I know,” he said.

“She’s already furious about your speech.”

My stomach tightened.

“Did she say something to you?” I asked.

“She texted me during the recessional,” he said.

“She’s waiting in the faculty reception room.”

“Dad is with her.”

He looked toward the exit sign at the end of the hall.

“She said you embarrassed the family on a public stage.”