“Not the beans,” Noah mutters, pushing what’s left of his food around his plate. “How much longer?”

“Not much longer. You’ve done great.” I push his floppy hair off his forehead and chuckle. “We can grab ice cream at The Ice Box when we leave.”

He fist pumps and I turn my attention back to Kayla, stuffing my disappointment since it looks like Kimba won’t make it in time.

“This project acknowledging service excellence in our community was one of the last things my father worked on,” Kayla says. “He wanted my sister, Kimba, to make these presentations. Come on out, sis.”

Kimba walks swiftly from backstage to the podium, looking slightly harried.

And stunning.

Just like I remember from the funeral, but better, which I didn’t think was possible. Rarely have I felt so completely focused on the smallest details of another person. The gold dress caresses her body, clinging to her curves, teasing me with tantalizing glimpses of glowing brown skin. Her textured curls are caught up high, leaving the graceful lines of her neck and shoulders bare.

“Good evening everyone,” Kimba says, her husky voice shaping the words to roll over my nerve endings. “My flight was delayed and I wasn’t sure I’d make it in time. I’m so glad I did.”

She draws a deep breath and grips the edge of the podium before going on.

“My father always used to say whatever you do, be excellent,” Kimba says. “Whatever you do, consider others. Big moves make big waves. Do big things. Make big waves. Tonight’s amazing leaders were selected because of the waves they’re making in our community. Sometimes we don’t realize that the move we’re making will be the one that changes everything, not just for us, but for someone else. Thank you for impacting your community as you follow your dreams.”

“She’s beautiful,” Mona says beside me. “Can you believe that’s our girl from middle school?”

“Hard to believe,” I agree neutrally.

“For our first award,” Kimba says, reading from the pages Kayla slid in front of her. “This doctor opened a clinic offering free mammograms to at-risk women with inadequate insurance coverage. Dr. Richard Clemmons.”

Dr. Clemmons takes the stage with Kimba, she hands him his award, and they pose for a photo before she moves on to the next recipient on her list. I have no idea where I fall in the order. Does she know I’m here? Did her mother or Kayla know? Connect the dots between the Dr. Ezra Stern who opened the school and the kid who darkened their door basically every day from the time he could walk until his parents dragged him away?