I sit straighter, forcing my jaw tight, because if I let myself fully sit in all that transpired to bring the six of us together, and the force that has come from that, I’ll fall apart on live television.
My Adam's apple bobs as I swallow down the emotion.
A ripple moves through the studio crew. It's quiet but unmistakable. Lane’s hands grip together on her lap, her knuckles blanched from the force of her grip. Carly reaches over and squeezes Luke’s knee with a mother’s pride and ache.
Sanders continues without missing a beat, his words tumbling over themselves. “And I was like, that’s not fair! So I said maybe I could help him. My family wanted to do a Save Christmas challenge, and I thought, what if we didit for Luke? So he could get his kidney sooner and not have to come to the hospital so much. He's a kid. He needs to live his life.”
Robin glances toward the camera, clearly charmed. “You're right about that. AndSend Luke to Dukewas born.”
Sanders beams. “Yep. I can't take credit for that hashtag, but isn't it great? It's my favorite. That, and Hashtag-Save-Christmas, of course.”
Luke ducks his head, grinning. “One person who commented on our first video came up with the name. Sanders does all the videos. I pick the songs. And bring the rizz, of course.”
Both boys laugh, and that gets a laugh out of Robin, too.
Leigh, perched at the edge of the couch, pipes up in a small, proud voice. “And I helped, too. I like to give them ideas for dance moves.”
The audience chuckles.“Of course you did. Every great team has a girl behind it. You're Luke's little sister, right?”
"Yes. My name is Leigh. I'm more like a big sister, only he's older."
Everyone laughs again, as if on cue. She's precious with her blonde braids and confidence.
My throat tightens as I watch the whole lot of them. Sanders, all golden energy and conviction. Luke, smaller but sitting up tall in his own way. Two boys filling living rooms across the country with their story, with their hope.
I glance down the line at Carly, eyes bright with unshed tears, then at Lane, her smile trembling at the corners. For the first time in years, it's like we’re all in this together.
Robin leans back as the cameras close in. “This is what Christmas is about, folks. Community.Hope. Friendship. Two boys reminding us that even in the hardest times, we can give each other light.”
Applause swells, not just from the crew but from somewhere deeper, a resonance that hits me square in the chest. I blink hard, straighten my shoulders, and force myself to breathe.
After a few more questions, a lot more laughs, and some tears, they move on to Ginger Zee for the weather. Once the focus shifts, the stage lights dim.
"You guys did awesome. Thank you for coming out for this. It's such a wonderful story," Robin says as she shakes everyone's hands. She's such a warm and genuine person.
Cameras wheel backward on slick tracks. The entire crew moves like dancers in some post-show ballet, coiling cables and adjusting equipment with practiced efficiency.
Robin reaches for Carly first, clasping both her hands. "We're going to follow Luke's journey. This isn't just a Christmas story. It’s a life story. We're in this with you, now."
My throat tightens. This isn't the first time I've watched a parent absorb news about their child, but it's different seeing hope rather than despair wash across Carly's face.
Lara Spencer sweeps in with her megawatt smile, crouching to Sanders and Luke's height. "You know what? I think we have future broadcasters here. Want to see the control room? Where all the magic happens?"
Sanders nearly jumps out of his shoes. "Actually? Can we really go?"
Luke's eyes widen, his thin face brightening. "Is that allowed?"
"It absolutely is." Lara winks at Leigh. "Especially for our choreography consultant."
Leigh preens, slipping her small hand into Lara's. "I have more dance ideas."
"Come on, future anchors!" Lara's laugh trails behind them as she leads the children away, their excited voices fading down the corridor.
Carly catches my eye, mouths "bathroom," and disappears in the opposite direction.
And just like that, it's only Lane and me.
The studio is different now, more intimate in the half-light, without all the buzz. The smell of hairspray and coffee lingers.
