Chapter 26: A Place at the Table

It was a rainy Tuesday when Sera received an unexpected email from the regional LGBTQ+ coalition.

Subject: Nomination for the Radiant Root Award

At first, she thought it was spam. Then she read it again, slowly this time. Someone—anonymous—had nominated her for her work at Havenlight and the outreach she'd done across the coast. The award wasn't just symbolic. It came with funding. Enough to expand, to hire more staff, to finally add that emergency shelter wing she and Ivy had designed months ago on paper.

She blinked at the screen. Ivy peeked over her shoulder.

"Is that—?"

"Yes," Sera whispered. "It's real."

"You're going to need a better blazer," Ivy said, grinning.

That weekend, Sera sat on the porch with a cup of lemon balm tea as the staff and residents prepared for Havenlight's first official community dinner. Word had gotten around. Local activists, volunteers, parents, and even skeptics were planning to attend.

Ellis tapped the doorframe. "Food's almost ready. You sure you don't want to write a speech?"

Sera shook her head. "I think I'll speak from the heart."

When people began arriving, the house transformed. Lorrie's curry filled the air with spice and warmth. Ivy's art hung proudly in the hallway—portraits of chosen family, of belonging. The community room buzzed with voices, laughter, and cautious curiosity.

Sera stood by the archway of flowers Ivy had strung from the ceiling beams.

Then the room quieted as she stepped forward.

"I won't take much of your time," she began. "I just want to say this: we didn't build Havenlight for awards or attention. We built it because too many kids needed a place where they could breathe, dream, and be seen—not just tolerated but celebrated."

She looked around the room, her gaze catching Ivy's.

"This isn't the end of anything. It's the beginning. There are more lights to ignite. More gardens to tend. And each of you, by being here tonight, is helping to bloom something bigger than yourselves."

The applause was thunderous.

Later that night, as Sera helped clear dishes, someone tapped her shoulder. A teenage boy, no more than fifteen, stood there clutching a worn sketchpad.

"Hi," he said shyly. "I... I didn't know where else to go. My parents kicked me out. But someone told me this place would be safe."

Sera knelt so they were eye to eye. "You're safe now. What's your name?"

"Marcus."

"Well, Marcus," she said, "welcome home."

He burst into tears. She wrapped her arms around him, heart breaking and soaring all at once.

This—this was the reason.

Later, Sera sat alone in the darkened kitchen, staring at her reflection in the window. The email notification still sat unread, marked with a star. The award ceremony was next month, in Elowen Ridge.

Home.

She pulled out her phone.

Sera: You still keep the moonflowers blooming?

Lina: Every single one.

Sera: I'm coming back. I think it's time.

Lina: Then I'll set your place at the table.