“Well, it is my money, and young Mr. Raje seems like the kind of person who knows how to help people.” Something like anger flashed in Jiggy’s eyes, even as he went on smiling.

Before Naina could respond to that vote of confidence, the crowd started clinking their glasses and everyone’s focus shifted to Yash as he jogged up onto the stage that had been constructed on the back lawn.

Californicators, the college beatboxing band that had been performing as part of a long lineup of local bands, gave him an impressive vocal drumroll, and Yash shoulder-bumped each of the seven members and said something that made every one of them look like they had just kissed the Pope’s ring.

Love for his brother swelled inside Vansh.

Finally Yash took the mic and cleared his throat, and the sea of guests who had coalesced from around the estate grounds to circle the stage burst into cheers.

“What a perfect Northern California night,” Yash said, managing to sound victorious, earnest, and in awe of the very earth they lived on. “A night filled with hope.”

Vansh hooted gleefully and the crowd joined in.

“A night I’ve dreamed of from the day I first tied my own shoelaces in kindergarten and my mother said, ‘You did that like someone who will run a country someday.’” Deafening cheering. Yash’s eyes glistened with tears. “Thanks, Ma!”

“Your mother is never wrong,” their mother shouted from the front of the crowd, her voice strong and proud.

Yash gave her a smile that made every woman in the crowd melt into a puddle and press her hands into her womb.

“Yes, Ma, you are never wrong.” He touched a hand to his heart. “Another thing my mother taught me was that actions are more important than rhetoric, so I’ll keep this short. We just made something historic and important happen, and we did it without engaging in lies and slander. We did it by coming up with ideas. Ideas that will fix what we, not someone else, we, all of us together, have broken. Our state’s future is bright.”

More cheers.