“I’m liking it. Maybe a little too much.”
“Oh no,” Roman says with a small, sardonic smile. “Have I created a monster?”
I wink. “Only time will tell.”
A small chime sounds. My stomach clenches. I watch as guests take their last glances at the art before heading out to the courtyard.
“Are you ready?” Roman asks. “I could delay them for a bit if you need a minute or two.”
“Nope. No delays. Ready now.”
“Good. Now, go knock them dead.”
One more kiss, and I’m on my own.
I take a steeling breath before heading out to the courtyard. It’s a gorgeous late spring day, as perfect as you could hope for in Chicago. A crowd is gathered in front of the podium.
Kyle gives me a thumbs-up, and Sasha beams happily up at me. Roman nods encouragingly.
Here we go.
“Thank you,” I begin, voice steady in spite of how crazily my heart is pounding. “Thank you all for coming.” I look out at the crowd. “This exhibit exists because of the idea that children don’t need to be fixed to be seen. They need space. Resources. Encouragement. And a little love.”
I glance at Sasha and smile, who smiles right back at me. “This,” I say, gesturing to the exhibit behind me through the tall, glass walls, “is what happens when you let kids take up space.”
Applause, warm and genuine, interrupts, and I smile.
“And today,” I go on, “it’s my great pleasure to announce the groundbreaking for The Callahan Studio for Young Artists—a permanent space in partnership with the Art Institute, dedicated to children whose voices are too often unheard.”
The crowd erupts.
The ceremony goes on, Callahan and I performing the first honorary shovels of dirt moments, cameras flashing all around us.
“Looking forward to working with you, Amalie. And don’t forget to check the front page of theTribunetomorrow—our smiling faces will be front and center.”
From a girl who stressed about next month’s rent to the front page of theChicago Tribune… not bad, if I do say so myself.
When it’s all over, my family finds me.
“Congrats, sis,” Kyle says, giving me a hug that makes sure to leave space for the giggling little guy on his chest.
“Thanks, bro.”
“Well-earned,” Andrei says, offering me a hug as well.
“Hugs?” I say in a playful tone.
“They’re not common, but they do happen,” he replies with a wink.
“Oh, my little girl!” Mom exclaims, throwing her arms around me. “I always knew one day you’d be giving big speeches and telling people what to do.”
“Are you calling me bossy?” I ask with a playful smirk.
“Not at all. More like assertive in the best way possible.”
I hug her back, so grateful to see her.
Sasha says nothing, instead rushing over and wrapping his arms around my legs.
