Grace earned a dance scholarship that carried her far, but she promised, “I’ll come home every break. I don’t care what I have to do.”
Honor went into ROTC, her posture proud as she said, “I’m doing this for me.”
Mercy pursued nursing, insisting, “I want to be where people hurt, because that’s where help matters most.”
Serenity studied psychology, saying softly, “I want to understand why people do what they do.”
Joy went into music, laughing, “If the world’s going to be loud, I might as well make the noise beautiful.”
Patience leaned toward law, calm and unshaken. “Somebody has to make things fair.”
They didn’t stay under one roof anymore.
But they stayed together.
They called each other daily. They returned home whenever they could. They showed up for each other’s milestones like it was mandatory.
When Honor graduated basic training, all eight sisters flew in to surprise her.
When Grace performed in her first major production, all eight sisters sat in the audience wearing matching sweaters just like kindergarten.
When Mercy worked her first hospital shift, she came home exhausted, and Joy made her laugh until she cried.
Richard watched them, amazed.
He had adopted them to keep them from being separated.
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