“I’m headed to the city of brotherly love this weekend to get some love from a brother! What are y’all doing this weekend? Hit me up.”

Booth G was skeletal. A few of Liza’s photos hung on the wall. Her generous sponsor was the only thing keeping her show going.

“While I’m in Philly, check out my live feeds on Instagram! You’ll be hearing reruns here, but if you follow me to Philly, you can get the scoop as it happens.”

“Liza, I wish I had an invitation and half the dresses in your closet. Why are you being so close-lipped about what’s happening?” the caller asked.

“Not close-lipped, just discreet.”

“Liza, you’re not fooling anybody. I have a cousin who works security at that hotel in Philly, and Janae Bennett is on the VIP list for Pemberley Development! Are you going to work out some kind of deal where we get screwed and you and your family get a new apartment?”

“I’m not making any deals or taking part in any foolishness. Someone gave my granny a prize for her roses, and I’m going to clap when they call her name and leave.”

“Why do I have a feeling you’re going to come out of this smelling like roses while we all get evicted?”

“Faith, sister, as tiny as a mustard seed. That’s all I need from y’all. Let’s take a break and hear from our sponsors, Pemberley Development, who care about our neighborhood’s value.”

Two hours after their flight touched down in philadelphia, the Bennetts and Chicho were bustling through two adjoining suites at the Four Seasons Hotel Philadelphia. Maurice had donated his plus-one to Chicho after Liza begged him to let Chicho come live it up with them in Philly. When Maurice finally relented, Liza noticed the blush on his neck when Chicho kissed his cheek.

The bathroom was a riot of curlers, bobby pins, lip glosses, and eyelashes, and the beds were covered in Janae’s dresses and alternate dresses. Shea butter and all manner of clashing bath and body fragrances wafted in the air. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows was a vibrant city of mostly Ben Franklin statues. This twinkling city view reminded Liza of that moment in Dorsey’s office—her shallow breathing, his voice in her ear and his chest against her back, that spicy scent that curled around her, and the tender way he had spoken about his mother. Flashing memories of that whole night kept coming back to her at strange times.

She took a selfie next to the window, hoping she could capture the view. Maurice snatched the phone camera out of Liza’s hands.

“Dang, what is that, selfie number two hundred and four? I will admit that Deya turned you from a frog to a human but, my sister, pride goeth before a fall.”