PANEL 1: Kwame stands before a mirror in a clean but clearly unfashionable replacement robe. Lady Amarl stands behind him, fingers moving through his damp hair, both of their reflections visible in the glass.
DIALOGUE: AMARL: "Ah, that's much better. Though we're going to have to redo your hair."
DIALOGUE: AMARL: "You look more like your father every day."

PANEL 2: Close-up on Kwame's face in the mirror. He smiles — but beneath it, something quiet and sad. His eyes drift somewhere far away.
CAPTION: He liked the idea of looking like his father. It made him sad he could barely remember him. Nobody ever said he looked like his mother.

PANEL 3: Amarl's hands rest gently on Kwame's shoulders. Her expression is warm but knowing — she noticed the shift in him.
DIALOGUE: AMARL: "Are you worried about the ceremony? Remember — excitement and nervousness feel the same. Tell yourself it's excitement, and you'll be fine."

PANEL 4: Amarl wraps Kwame in a full bear hug from behind, her eyes glistening. Kwame's arms hang slightly out — caught off guard, but not pulling away.
DIALOGUE: AMARL: "I'm so proud of you. And I know your father would be too."
CAPTION: He found it a little hard to breathe. But he didn't want to ruin the moment by saying so.