Her mother, still weak but awake tonight, leaned against the bedroom doorframe. "Baby," she whispered, her voice raspy, "your daddy would have cried seeing you like this. He always said you were meant for something big."
Naomi blinked fast so tears wouldn't ruin her makeup. She kissed her mother's forehead, squeezed Isaiah's hand, then stepped into the hallway before she lost her nerve.
The ride to the Waldorf was surreal. The rideshare driver made small talk she barely heard. Her heart pounded in a steady rhythm: fear, expectation, determination tangled together. Through the car window, the city lights streaked like fireflies, blurring into streams of gold and white.
When the hotel finally came into view, Naomi sucked in a breath. The Waldorf Chicago towered above her, its grand entrance crowded with luxury cars, valets in crisp uniforms, and guests stepping out in gowns and tuxedos. Everything sparkled: marble pillars, crystal chandeliers visible through the glass doors. Even the pavement seemed to glow beneath streetlamps.
For a moment, Naomi thought her knees might give out. This was not her world. These were not her people.
But then she felt the faint weight of Mabel's necklace at her collarbone. She inhaled. Lifted her chin. She walked forward.
Inside the lobby, sound swelled around her: live music floating from the ballroom, laughter bouncing off polished stone walls, the clink of champagne flutes. People moved in elegant currents, drifting from one cluster to another like ornaments on display.
She stepped onto the crimson-carpeted stairs leading to the ballroom entrance. Halfway down, she felt eyes on her. A few heads turned. Conversations paused. Faces softened with surprise, curiosity, even admiration—not ridicule. The reaction shook her more than she expected.
She reached the final step just as a couple walked past. The woman, glittering in silver, murmured to her partner, "Who is she?" The man shrugged, but not dismissively, not with mockery.
For the first time in years, Naomi felt seen.
Inside the ballroom, tall floral arrangements towered over round tables draped in white linen. Chandelier light spilled like liquid gold across the room. A quartet played a gentle melody near the stage. Naomi swallowed hard, heart thudding. She searched instinctively for a quiet corner where she could disappear.
But she stopped herself. No shrinking tonight.
She moved toward the refreshment table, focusing on steady breathing. She'd almost made it unnoticed when she heard a familiar voice behind her:
"Naomi?"
Her stomach clenched. She turned.