The shout cut sharply through the ballroom's polite murmur, drawing startled glances from nearby guests as Ethan turned and began pushing urgently through the crowd, abandoning every carefully maintained pretense of composure that had defined his public persona for years. He wove between clusters of startled investors and board members, ignoring the confused calls of his name from colleagues who had no context for his sudden, urgent departure.
His pace built into a full sprint as he crossed the remaining distance toward the cleaning cart positioned near the ballroom's edge, his dress shoes striking the marble floor with rapid, echoing urgency. The elderly woman, still kneeling and focused on her task, hadn't yet noticed his approach, entirely unaware that her son was closing the distance between them with an urgency eight years in the making.
Ethan reached her and dropped immediately to his knees on the cold marble floor, his tuxedo forgotten entirely, and pulled her into a fierce, desperate embrace before she could fully register what was happening.