Of course she knew.
Some voices stayed with you no matter how much time passed.
Noah stood beside the window of his apartment, looking at the evening traffic below.
“I didn’t know if I should call.”
“You always say that before doing something important,” Diana replied.
For the first time in days, Noah genuinely laughed.
Then Diana asked the question he had been expecting.
“How are they?”
Noah looked toward the framed photograph on his desk.
Three young women stood beside him wearing graduation gowns. Their smiles were similar, but Noah could see all the differences other people missed.
“They graduated last week.”
“I know. I saw the pictures.”
Noah swallowed.
“They’re not little girls anymore.”
“No,” Diana said gently. “They aren’t.”
Twenty-two years.
That was how long Noah had spent building his life around them.
And now, suddenly, they didn’t need him in the way they once had.
