Glad announced her decision at a community gathering.
"I've led for eight years. Built things I never imagined. Fought battles I never expected. But every leader needs to know when to step back."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"I'm not leaving. I'm not disappearing. But the public face of this movement—the one who speaks at rallies, does interviews, carries the weight—that should be the next generation."
She looked at Maya.
"Maya has been ready for years. She's braver than me, wiser than me, and much better with technology. It's time."
Maya's eyes filled with tears. "Glad, I—"
"You're ready. I know it. Everyone knows it."
The crowd erupted—applause, cheers, some tears. Maya stepped forward, accepting the role she'd been growing into since arriving as a frightened teenager.
"I won't let you down," she promised.
"You couldn't if you tried."
The transition began.
Glad stepped back.
Maya stepped up.
The movement continued.