"I'm not going anywhere," Novah said. "Even when Mom buys you another dress."
From the doorway, Rochelle—caught arriving with dry cleaning—said, "The next dress budget includes a debate tournament blazer if you want one."
Novah looked up. "Navy. No sequins."
"Navy," Rochelle agreed. "I can do navy."
XX.
The bruise showed itself once in public, which made it harder to romanticize progress. At a drugstore, a parent from Upper School spotted Tiana and gushed about the Ambassador Walk, then glanced at Novah and said, "And you must be so proud of your sister."
Novah's mouth tightened. "I am. I'm also Student of the Year."
The parent flushed. "Of course—I heard—congratulations—"
In the car afterward, Rochelle started to scold the world's manners, then stopped. "Do you want me to handle people like that, or do you want to keep handling them?"
"I can handle them," Novah said. "You can back me up without taking the mic."
"I backed you up slowly in that aisle," Rochelle admitted. "I froze. Old habit—letting the compliment land on Tiana first."
Tiana, from the back, said, "I should have said it faster. *And she's Student of the Year.* I'll say it faster next time."
Novah watched strip-mall lights move across the bouquet of leftover pantry thank-you carnations someone had given them—nothing like Keisha's roses, and somehow comforting for that. "Next time is how this works," she said. "Not perfect nights. Next times."
XXI.
Fall orientation arrived warm and crowded. Novah wore the navy blazer Rochelle had bought in July, white sneakers she chose herself, hair in two chunky braids Tiana had done that morning while watching a tutorial and arguing with it. Rochelle sat in the front row with Corbin—home, jet-lagged, fiercely present—and Tiana, who had taken a free period to attend.
Keisha introduced Novah without frosting. "Last year's Lower School Student of the Year will speak briefly about seriousness. Please welcome Novah Prentiss."
Novah walked to the lectern with notes she barely used. She spoke about rainfall and reading circles and the difference between being quiet and being unseen. She said, "Sometimes the people who love you most get busy building a shiny night and forget you are also a night worth building. If that happens, you can still do the work. You can also ask to be seen. Asking is not vanity. Asking is maintenance."
A few parents shifted. Rochelle kept her face open. Corbin's hand covered hers.
Novah finished, "Treat thinking like it belongs under the lights. And if somebody you love forgets, hand them a reminder without setting them on fire. Most of them will come closer if you leave them a way back."