What he offered felt unreal: a full scholarship for Lily, a better apartment nearby, and a steady facilities job for me with daytime hours. There was no catch—just the hope that Lily could grow without the weight of financial worry. We toured the school together, finding bright studios, kind teachers, and a place where Lily seemed to belong instantly. That was a year ago. Life is still busy, and I still come home smelling like work, but I make it to every class and every recital. Lily dances with more confidence than ever, and sometimes, watching her move across the floor, I feel as though Emma’s memory is still shaping the world in quiet, generous ways.
