Chapter 20
Episode 20
Even after graduation, she still helps out the ones who made her, who made her believed in them and who never let her down
The diploma felt heavy in my hands, but not the way a burden does—more like a promise. I traced the embossed letters: Women’s Centre of Jamaica Foundation. The gold ink caught the fluorescent light, and I thought of all the mornings I had stumbled through those same doors, half asleep, a baby on my hip and a knot of shame in my chest. Mrs. Brown had pressed the certificate into my palms with both of hers, her fingers warm and slightly trembling.
“You did it, my dear,” she whispered, and her voice cracked like a dry twig underfoot. Her eyes were wet, but she was smiling.
I should have walked out that day and never looked back. I had a son to raise, a life to build, a future to chase. But every Tuesday and Thursday, when I dropped my little boy at my mother-in-law’s house and caught the bus to Half Way Tree, I found myself stepping off at the same stop. The Women’s Centre called to me like a second heartbeat.
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