Chapter 16 - The Spelling BeeThe auditorium at the Chicago private academy smelled of polished wood floor wax and nervous sweat. Dozens of parents sat on folding chairs, whispering excitedly as children in crisp uniforms sat in a long row of chairs on the stage.
I sat dead center in the front row, wearing a tailored charcoal suit and a slate-gray tie. Beside me, Naomi held a small thermos of coffee, her eyes scanning the stage with maternal pride.
"If Jack spells 'definitely' wrong again like he did at breakfast, I'm cutting off his dessert privileges," Naomi whispered teasingly.
"He's got it," I murmured, my eyes locked on my son.
Jack was third in line. He looked nervous, his small fingers fidgeting with the collar of his white button-down shirt. When he scanned the audience and finally spotted me sitting right in front, his posture straightened instantly. He gave me a tiny, subtle nod—a mirror image of the way I squared my shoulders before walking into a high-stakes meeting.
"Next contestant, Jack Moretti," the headmistress announced into the microphone.
Jack stepped up to the microphone, his chin held high.
"Your word, Jack, is resilience," the judge said clearly. "Can you spell resilience?"
A hush fell over the auditorium. Jack closed his eyes for a split second, picturing the word, then opened them with absolute clarity.
"Resilience. R-E-S-I-L-I-E-N-C-E. Resilience."
The buzzer sounded with a bright, cheerful ding.
The auditorium erupted into applause. Jack broke into a massive, triumphant grin, his eyes searching the front row until they locked onto mine. I stood up from my chair and started clapping, a deep, swelling pride filling my chest that no empire, no syndicate, and no amount of money could ever match.
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Naomi leaned over as the applause died down. "He gets that stubborn focus entirely from you."
"No," I replied softly, watching Jack take his seat with a swagger that made me chuckle. "He got it from his mother. He's just carrying it forward."
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