Chapter 5 - The Viral Storm
By 11:00 PM, my phone was hot to the touch.
I was sitting in Nina's living room, eating pepperoni pizza out of a cardboard box while her family laughed and celebrated around us. My phone had been vibrating continuously for two hours, but I had kept it facedown, wanting to enjoy the feeling of a real family dinner.
"Emma," Nina said suddenly, her voice dropping to a stunned whisper. She was staring at her tablet screen, her jaw practically hanging open. "Emma, look at this."
She turned the screen toward me.
It was a TikTok video. Specifically, it was the video Nina had recorded of my valedictorian speech.
The view count was spinning like a slot machine.
1.2 million views. 2.4 million views. 4.8 million views.
Underneath, the comment section was an absolute avalanche of support.
“‘strangers may applaud you before your own family does’—I felt that in my soul.” “Who is this girl? She speaks like a world leader.” “The empty chairs behind her... my heart breaks but she is so incredibly strong.” “Wait, is that Daniel Pierce standing next to her at the end? The billionaire philanthropist?”
The video had been reposted by several major educational accounts, and the hashtag #EmmaWhitaker was currently trending at #1 nationwide on the platform. My inbox was flooded with hundreds of messages from strangers, academic mentors, and even a few national news producers asking for interviews.
"Oh my god," I breathed, staring at the screen. "This isn't real."
"It is real," Nina's mother said, wrapping her arms around my shoulders from behind. "You spoke for every child who was ever pushed aside, Emma. You gave them a voice. Of course it went viral."
Just then, my phone screen lit up with an incoming call.
The caller ID read: DAD.
My stomach did a cold flip. I looked at the screen as it vibrated against the wooden table.
"Are you going to answer?" Nina asked quietly.
"No," I said, my voice firmer than I expected. "They made their choice at six o'clock. I'm making mine now. Let's finish the pizza."
May you like
I let the call go to voicemail.
Ten minutes later, the front door of my house would be opening to a very different kind of homecoming.
