March fifteenth. I’mtwenty years old.
It’s been twelve years since my life changed forever.
I’m not grateful for it.
But I am grateful for everything I’ve done to heal from it.
Going back to therapy.
Joining Ben, Kennedy, and her family at organized events for gun control and writing about them in a column for the local paper.
Going back to school for journalism to be the type of journalist that so many people refused to be when reporting on events like the July Fourth shooting.
Nobody should be depicted how I was. Or my family. The gunmen were at fault. The families who ignored the warning signs were at fault.
But not me.
I survived.
I lived.
So, I’ll tell my story.
Noah lifts my wrist and turns the bracelet, placing the newest charm onto the collection of others.
A pair of cowboy boots.
Custom made, he said, to have the stitching engraved like the ones of Mom’s that I still wear all the time.
He sets it beside the other new charm he got me for Christmas—a silver pen.
For my future career, he said.
“Are we still on for dinner, Boots?” he asks, brushing his thumb against the bracelet.
I look to Dad, who nods. I’d asked him if it was okay if I spent my birthday with Noah, and he said,you’re an adult, baby girl. You can spend it with whoever you want.
Interweaving our fingers, I squeeze them and nod while rocking on the new boots that Susan bought me for Christmas. “Yeah. We’re on.”
EPILOGUE
Summer 2026
Tight arms wraparound me from behind as I talk to Kennedy and a few others from our graduating class. It took me a few summer sessions and doubling my course load during my last year to ensure I walked with my friends today. I think we’re all looking forward to getting out of these robes, especially after Marybelle helped me style my hair to curled perfection only to have it ruined by the heat, sweat, and cap.
I look behind me and smile at Noah. “Hi, handsome. Fancy meeting you here.”
He presses a kiss against my lips and smiles at the others. “Hello, ladies. Mind if I steal this one away?”
It’s Kennedy who steps up to me and gives me one more hug. “I’m going to miss you, but I’m happy you got the internship at the New York Times. My bestie is going to be a famous journalist!”
Marybelle gives her a look. “Watch it, sis. Just because I like you doesn’t mean I won’t throw hands. She was mine first.”
My eyes roll at them. “You’re both my best friend, so chill. And I doubt I’ll be famous. There’s a lot of competition at the Times.”
It’s Marybelle who scoffs. “You’ve got what those other people don’t have. A story to tell. They’re doing it for a paycheck. You’ve actually got a purpose. A vendetta.”
The surprised laugh bubbles past my lips as I take the hand Noah offers me. “I wouldn’t necessarily word it like that. I’m also doing it for a paycheck. The city isn’t cheap.”