With Jason and Roan headed to the bathroom, Reese sank into a nearby chair, feeling suddenly weak. Julia brought her a plate of food, and Grace, the mother hen that she was, clucked until Reese took several bites of pasta and chicken.
The kids put on their red vests and Santa hats.
Mia made an announcement that there would be a special performance, dedicated to Reese. All four of the kids headed to the stage. The crowd hushed as Cody took hold of the microphone.
“Hey, everyone. I’m Cody. One of the Bridge kids.” He gestured to the others. “These are my friends. Marcus, Julia, and Emma. Reese Monroe and Roan Hayes are our mentors. We’ve been working out with Roan at his gym and taking dance lessons from Reese.” His voice grew husky and he looked over at Emma, as if he needed help. “I can’t …say the rest.”
“I’ve got you.” Emma stepped up to the microphone. “Reese taught us a dance for Christmas, and we thought it would be fun to surprise her tonight with our best version of it. We took what she taught us and … to thank her for all she’s done to make the Christmas season bearable. If you’re wondering if this program’s worth your charity, then take a look at us. Wewere all falling through the cracks, so to speak.” Emma’s eyes shimmered with tears and a wave of emotion clearly hit her hard. “We … no one cared about any of us. Not really. Until Mrs. Chen told us we’d been chosen for the program and met Reese and Roan. We all knew exactly why they zeroed in on us. We’re what an at-risk teen looks like. Except now, none of us are at risk. Because we know someone cares. That sounds simple, and maybe it is. Giving your time and money and heart to kids no one particularly wants? That’s how you change a life.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Reese saw Roan making his way toward the stage, wearing his red vest over borrowed clothes and the Santa hat perched on his head. He was pale, moving carefully, but he was smiling as he climbed the stairs to stand next to the kids.
Julia stepped up to speak next. “Most adults would’ve written us off. But Reese and Roan believed we were redeemable. Even if one of us was pregnant.” She placed a hand on her stomach. “That’s me, in case you couldn’t tell. They told me it was all right to keep dreaming—that my life wasn’t over and I didn’t have to be ashamed. That I still mattered. Even if I was going to be a teenage mom. Without them, I don’t know where I’d be right now.” She turned to Marcus. “Marcus, do you want to say anything?”
At first, Reese thought Marcus might decline, but he came forward, speaking into the microphone with his soft voice. “Yeah, so all the stuff they said goes for me too. I was sleeping in an alleyway before Roan invited me to stay with him. Not to sound dramatic or anything, but I might not have made it to Christmas.” His gaze landed on Reese. “Thank you, Reese, for seeing us. For not trying to change us. And for believing that we’re good kids, even when we felt otherwise.”
By now, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room.
Emma came back to the microphone. “This is for you, Reese. Thank you.” She moved it to the side to free up the dance space.
Dr. Lawrence positioned himself near the stage stairs, arms crossed, looking like he regretted this decision.
Everyone took their place. The opening notes ofAll I Want for Christmas Is Youcame through the speakers.
All five of them snapped into position—synchronized head nods on the downbeat, shoulders popping in rhythm. Emma and Julia in front, their arms chopping low then lifting high, marking the rhythm. Marcus and Cody behind them, mirroring the movements with surprising precision. And Roan in back, a half-beat slower than the others but determined, pushing through. Even in their Santa hats, they looked sharp and so very beautiful. Reese’s trained eye caught the clean lines, the way they hit every accent together.
The first verse kicked in, and Emma stepped forward for a quick eight-count solo—fast footwork, slides on the balls of her feet, hip pops that hit exactly on the song’s hooks. But then she did something Reese hadn’t taught them. A perfect pirouette, controlled and elegant, transitioning seamlessly into a body roll that rippled down her spine. The crowd gasped. This was a trained, talented dancer, and everyone could see it now. Emma’s face was pure joy, living her dream of performing again.
The others watched, bouncing to the rhythm, then jumped back in with power moves.
They dropped into levels—Marcus and Cody crouching low while Emma and Julia reached tall, creating dimension. Roan stayed standing, his movements broader, less precise, but committed.
The chorus exploded with hip-hop isolations. Shoulder pop. Chest pop. Body rolls that Emma executed perfectly, Julia adapted beautifully for her pregnant belly, and the boys hit with surprising strength.
Roan stumbled, his foot catching on a pivot, but Cody was right there, steadying him without breaking formation. They recovered seamlessly, sliding into the next sequence.
The formation shifted. A V-shape with Emma at the point, Marcus and Cody flanking her, Julia and Roan forming the back line. Their arms swung wide in synchronized arcs, their feet hitting stomp-steps that Reese could feel through the floor.
Marcus had a brief solo moment—a quick spin, clean and controlled, his hip hitting the beat on the turn, then flowing into smooth, connected movements that showed natural talent. When had he gotten that good? Reese’s heart swelled watching him, this quiet kid who’d been sleeping in alleys just a week ago, now dancing with confidence and genuine joy, his Santa hat bobbing with each bounce.
Cody was next in the rotation, his movements sharp and enthusiastic, if not quite as polished. But his smile was real, his commitment total.
Julia moved with grace—despite her round belly—and never lost the rhythm. Her hands framed her face on the next hit, her smile radiant.
Roan’s arms weren’t quite in sync and his footwork was heavy. But he never stopped. When they dropped into a synchronized squat, his legs shook, but he held it. When they popped back up with a jump, he was a second late, but he made it.
The whole room watched in silence, many people crying openly.
The final chorus ramped up. Bigger movements, broader swings. The five of them spreading across the stage, then converging center for the finale. Emma hit one last perfect pirouette before they all locked into the final formation. Arms up, one last stomp-step, and a freeze—bold and bright with their Santa hats tilted at jaunty angles, breathing hard, grinning.
Roan swayed slightly. Marcus’s hand shot out, steadying him. They held the pose as the music faded.
When the song ended, the room erupted into a standing ovation. People were cheering, crying, clapping. In fact, they clapped so loud it shook the mirrors on the walls. The five performers stood on stage, breathing hard. Roan was leaning slightly on Marcus, but he was grinning. The kids were beaming.
Emma hauled out the microphone, speaking into it, slightly breathless. “And now, Roan has something he would like to do. Reese, will you join us for a moment?”
On trembling legs, Reese climbed the steps up to the stairs. The room went even quieter as Roan dropped to one knee.
Reese clasped her hands in front of her, trying to keep it together.
