He blinked hard, and tears slipped down his cheeks. My mom reached over and squeezed his hand, and he held hers tightly. A few people wiped their eyes. Someone in the back clapped. Then another. And another.
I walked over to Daniel and hugged him. He didn’t say anything — he just held on. Behind me, my biological father stared into his glass. He didn’t speak again that night. And just like that, the weight I’d carried for years began to lift.
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