The lobby was a churning sea of people, a tidal wave of evening gowns and expensive cologne ebbing toward the exits. While some were indulged in photography, whether it was from their phone or photo booth.
I felt small in the center of it, a stray in a forest of wild animals. Max moved ahead of me with a purpose, her shoulders cutting a path through the crowd. I kept my eyes glued to her back, my steps quick and frantic, terrified that if I lost sight of her for even a second, the swell of the crowd would swallow me whole.
"Lyra, over here!" Max called out, looking back.
She reached out her hand, an anchor in the storm.
Under normal circumstances, two women walking hand-in-hand might have drawn a few eyes, but in this crush of bodies, it felt like survival. I realized then that if we didn't hold ourselves together, we would drift apart like grains of sand swept by a wave.
