The first person to stand was a teacher near the aisle.
Then another.
Then a row of students.
Then parents.
The sound began softly, like rain.
Applause.
Miguel held up one hand, not to stop it completely, but to ask for one more sentence.
The room quieted again.
He looked at Mariana with tears in his eyes.
“So if my mother is standing in the back, then the back is where the most important person in this room is.”
For a heartbeat, there was silence.
Then the entire auditorium stood.
Not half.
Not politely.
Everyone.
The applause thundered against the walls. Students turned around to look at Mariana. Teachers clapped with tears on their faces. Parents wiped their eyes. Even the usher who had sent her to the back stood frozen, ashamed, clapping slowly as if trying to apologize with his hands.
Mariana could not move.
Patricia pushed the bouquet into her arms and whispered, “Stand up straight. Let them see you.”
