“I invited my brother. He and Isa can’t be in the same place at once. He had a run to make anyway,” Aria said. “But my brother didn’t even show, so he could have come.”

“Aria, I’m sorry,” Morgan said. “Come celebrate with me afterward. We’re going to Ocean Prime for dinner. It’s a small thing, but we did this together, so we’re going to be acknowledged together.”

“I might have plans, but I’ll try,” Aria answered, forcing a smile as she looked around the arena hopefully. “Is Meek coming?”

“We haven’t talked,” Morgan admitted. Her voice was sad, and Aria reached for her hand.

“How about we forget all of them today, Mo? It’s not about them; it’s about us. We did this. We deserve to go into this day with clear heads and proud hearts. Fuck Messiah, fuck Isa, fuck Meek, and fuck Bash ass too. Fuck everybody except Ethic, cuz that’s zaddy,” Aria teased.

Morgan groaned.

“It’s about us today. It’s not about them. It’s about us. Black girls sprinkling magic across this stage as we get our degrees. I’m chassé-ing my pretty ass across that damn stage when they call my name,” Aria said. “You write your big speech?”

“I did,” Morgan said. “My stomach is in knots, though. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Morgan hurried away from the crowd and found solace in the restroom. She was overwhelmed and underwhelmed all at the same time. It was the most accomplished moment of her life, but the fact that she was commemorating it with Bash cheapened it. He wasn’t who she wanted to run to when she received her degree. She didn’t want to smile for his cameras or hear his voice singing her praises. She had really bound herself to a man she didn’t love, and she was miserable.

She had perfected the art of the fake smile so well that not even Ethic could detect something was wrong. The bathroom door opened, and Morgan spun around as his reflection hit the mirror.

“Shorty Doo Wop.” In Messiah’s hands, he held a turquoise box. He locked the bathroom door.

“What are you doing here?” Morgan asked.

He walked up behind her and opened the box. He didn’t answer her question, and he got so close that Morgan held her breath. Her heart raced as he pressed his body into the back of her.

“Messiah, don’t,” she whispered.

“Don’t what, shorty?” he asked. She closed her eyes and gripped the sink, releasing a shaky breath. Something cold hit her collarbone, and she opened her eyes to find Messiah fastening a necklace around her neck.

“It’s from Tiffany’s. Your favorite store. I think you said that it was. It’s been a while since we had that conversation, but I don’t think I forgot,” Messiah said.