Enough to pay most of her outstanding prenatal bills.
Enough to buy two car seats and a crib.
Enough to make sure her babies came home to a warm apartment.
She had tried to refuse the job.
Twice.
But then her landlord had called.
Her doctor’s office had called.
And her bank account had dropped below forty dollars.
So Sophia had swallowed her pride.
She had accepted.
Someone knocked on the bathroom door.
“Miss Williams? Two minutes.”
Sophia closed her eyes.
“Thank you.”
She waited until the footsteps disappeared.
Then she looked at herself one final time.
“You’re going to walk out there,” she whispered. “You’re going to sing. You’re going to collect your check. Then you’re going home.”
She walked out.
The wedding coordinator, Catherine Doyle, was waiting in the corridor.
Catherine’s eyes immediately went to Sophia’s stomach.
“You’re sure you’re comfortable?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Catherine hesitated.
“The bride doesn’t want surprises.”
Sophia gave her a tired smile.
“Neither do I.”
Then she walked toward the ballroom.
The doors opened.
Music floated through the room.
Guests turned toward the stage.
Sophia stepped into the light.
And then she saw him.
Maxwell Thornton stood beside his bride.
He looked exactly as she remembered.
