Emma nodded.
Then she hurried toward the front, but twice she turned around to make sure he was still there.
Both times, Adrian raised his hand.
Both times, she smiled.
The ceremony began with music from an old speaker that crackled every few seconds.
The principal gave a speech about effort, growth, and bright futures.
Parents clapped in the wrong places.
Children fidgeted.
Adrian had sat through award ceremonies in grand halls, charity galas, and university commencements.
None of them had ever felt like this.
Because in the third row from the front, Emma kept turning her head.
Not often enough to be obvious.
Just enough to check that the man in the dark suit had not disappeared like everyone else.
Then names were called.
One by one, children walked across the stage.
Cheers rose from different corners of the room.
“That’s my boy!”
“Smile, sweetheart!”
“We love you!”
Emma clapped for every child.
Adrian watched her hands.
She clapped even when no one had ever clapped for her.
Then the principal looked down at the list.
“Emma Brooks.”
There was a short pause.
Emma stood.
For the first few steps, she looked terrified.
Her dress swayed around her knees.
Her shoes made tiny sounds against the wooden stage.
The principal handed her the certificate.
For half a second, the room was quiet.
Then Adrian stood.
He clapped.
Not politely.
Not softly.
He clapped like Emma Brooks had just won the whole world.
A few heads turned.
Then one teacher joined.
Then another.
Soon, the auditorium filled with applause.
Emma froze onstage.
Her eyes found Adrian.
And there, in front of everyone, she pressed the certificate to her chest.
She smiled.
It was not a big smile.
It was small, stunned, and almost too tender to look at.
But it broke something open in Adrian.
