“Something like that,” I said.
“This shit gon’ change your life, no lie. It’ll make you possessive, downright feral about her.” Malik’s voice dropped. “My advice is simple: be the stand-up nigga you know how to be. Make sure she knows she can depend on you. She can call you at any hour and know you on the way to her. That is what strong women need. A helpmate. Dependable energy.”
“Damn, nigga, that was deep. Ole drunk in love ass.”
“I won’t deny it. I just told you I’m going to hell and jail for the one in the green. Period.”
As he said that, I noticed Halo's coworkers coming in, dressed up, looking around. Halo spotted them too, and the confusion on her face was priceless.
She rushed back to the table. “DaVinci, why are people from my job here?”
I just smiled and kissed her forehead. “You’ll see, baby, in due time.”
Before she could press me, servers came out with dinner. The gala was in full swing. For about an hour, the four of us sat, ate, and talked. Halo had tried to get more information out of me, but I refused to give up anything. The night was about her, and soon she'd find out why.
Omni appeared at my side. “It’s time.”
“Aight.” I looked at Halo. “Stay right here. I'll be back.”
“DaVinci, what's going on?”
“You trust me?”
She looked into my eyes, searching for a hint of what I had planned. Then she nodded, even though I could see the nerves starting to creep in.
I headed to the stage, and the band slid into softer background music. The room quieted when I stepped up to the mic. I took a second to look out at everybody who showed up. Family, friends, colleagues, first responders. And Halo, standing with Sametra and Malik, looking at me with a big question mark on her face.
I winked at her.
“Good evening, everybody,” I started. “First, I want to thank y’all for being here tonight. For those who don’t know, this foundation was started four years ago. I’ve always believed in giving back, in using whatever platformor resources I have to make a difference. So every year, we gather to honor different foundations. I consider what’s been happening in the world or in my world and choose from there. I wish I could fix everything, but I can’t. I can do my part, and I can ask y’all to do the same.”
I paused, letting that sit. The room was quiet.
“Most of y'all know I lost my crib a few months back to arson. That was one of the worst days of my life, but it taught me something. We take first responders for granted. We just expect them to show up when shit goes left, but we don't think about what that costs them. That changed for me real quick, and I got Station19 to thank for that.
Tonight's about the people who run toward the danger while the rest of us run the other way. I couldn't do what they do. I know that. But we got people out here who take pride in being there for us in our darkest moments. They see the worst shit we go through and still show up every single day with heart. That deserves more than a thank you.”
I looked straight at Halo.
“This year, we’re honoring someone specific. Someone who shows up every single day and doesn't ask for anything in return.
Halima Grant is a firefighter with Station 19 here in Silverrun. Some of y'all know her as Fire and Fine, the viral firefighter.” A ripple of laughter moved through the crowd. “And yeah, she is. But she’s also probably the most humble person I know. Halo lost her mother in a house fire when she was sixteen. She could've let that break her. Instead, she turned that pain into purpose. For the past eight years, she’s been saving lives, running into burning buildings, being the kind of hero most of us only talk about.”
The room erupted in applause, and I saw Halo's hand fly to her mouth. Sametra was rubbing her back, and even from the stage, I could see the tears in her eyes.
“Halo, can you come up here?”
She came up with my help, a little shaky, and stood beside me.
“Tonight, the Bryns Foundation is donating ten thousand dollars to Station 19 and ten thousand to each station in the city for new equipment, training, and resources in your honor.” The applause got louder. “And Halo you are receiving a ten-thousand-dollar personal grant to use however you see fit. School, personal goals, whatever. Just a reminder that your work matters and that you are valued. Silverrun is safer because of you, your leadership, and your team.”
The crowd roared, people standing, but underneath all that noise, I heard a voice that made my whole body go tight.
“That’s fucking bullshit!”
The words cut clean through the applause. I turned toward the side entrance and saw some drunk, light-skinned nigga stumbling forward, tie loose, face red. I remembered him from the station.
“This is bullshit!” he yelled again. “You don’t even know her! This is just some publicity stunt so you can…”
