"Still beautiful. I just meant nervous. No one else would know." A smile plays at the corner of his mouth. "Your right foot always taps when you're nervous."
I stop my foot mid-tap, annoyed he still notices these things about me.
Robin Roberts strides toward us, radiant in a crimsondress. Her smile is exactly as warm in person as on television.
"You must be the Beamers! I feel like I already know you."
Beamers?I open my mouth to correct her, but freeze when Woody's hand settles on my back, steadying.
"I'm Woody Beamer, this is Lane Beamer, and our son Sanders. And this is Carly Turner with Luke and Leigh."
Robin shakes each hand, gracious and magnetic. "So lovely to meet you all. What you're doing for Luke is just beautiful."
We're guided to our positions on the curved sofa. Sanders sits between Woody and me, vibrating with excitement. Luke and Leigh settle beside their mother across from us. Carly looks exhausted but proud, her hands constantly smoothing Luke's collar, adjusting Leigh's hair.
The floor director counts down. "Five, four, three..." He points silently for two and one.
The ON AIR light blinks red. My heart hammers against my ribs.
Robin turns to the camera, her voice warm and polished. "This morning, we have a story that's captured hearts across the country. Two boys, one incredible mission, and the power of Christmas spirit through the viral sensation to save Christmas."
After a few questions to soften up the boys and introduce them to the world, Robin asks them how they met.
Sanders launches into their story before Luke can answer. "I met Luke when my dad had to do emergency surgery, and I was waiting in the hospital."
"I was doing dialysis," Luke interrupts, holding up his arm to show his fistula, surprisingly confident under the lights. "That's when they clean my blood because mykidneys don't work."
Their voices overlap, finishing each other's sentences, explaining the videos and the fundraiser with pure, unfiltered excitement.
I watch them, these beautiful, earnest boys, and my throat closes with emotion. The entire country is witnessing this moment. This is why they are a viral sensation, why their story matters. It's Sanders' golden heart, Luke's quiet strength.
I glance at Woody. Behind his composed smile, I catch the shimmer of moisture in his eyes. He feels it too.
Our eyes meet, a fraction too long, and I wonder if the cameras catch what I can’t quite hide.
TWELVE
Woody
Robin tilts her head playfully. “I hear the two of you bonded over a game that’s a big deal right now. Something calledSteal a Brainrot? Did I get that right?”
Luke perks up immediately, like he’s been waiting for the chance to talk about this silly game they love so much his entire life. His whole face lights up. “Yeah! I was playing in the dialysis room one day. This kid comes in, doesn't say anything, just sits down beside me and starts watching.”
My chest tightens at how easily he relays the story, the dialysis just a side part of the story, not the reason he was there. Nine years old and more articulate and less of a victim than most adults I know who are facing a terminal illness.
Robin smiles. “And for the grown-ups out there, what exactly is thisSteal a Brainrot? I've heard my nephew talking about it.”
Sanders launches into it, animated, hands flying like he’s explaining rocket science instead of a video game. “It’s awesome. You go on this app called Roblox, then you goon a little icon that says Steal a Brainrot, and from there you just go to people's base or home and steal brains. The more you steal, the more stuff you unlock. There are these crazy sound effects, too. It’s, like, the best game ever.”
I bite back a laugh. The whole country is hearing him say this, my kid with his crooked grin and unshakable conviction. God, I’ve never been prouder than when he explains how to steal brains.
Luke nods quickly. “And he's really good at it. So we helped each other get more brains, you know. And then we just didn’t stop.”
Robin’s expression softens, her voice dipping into that trademark warmth. “Instant friends.”
Luke shrugs, a little shy but still animated. “Pretty much. Then he asked why I was there. I told him I come to the hospital three or four times a week for dialysis. Until I get a kidney.”
The words hang in the air heavier than the lights overhead. I glance at Carly. Her smile trembles at the edges. Then I look at Lane, who’s blinking too quickly.
