I stepped past him, brushing my shoulder against his tailored tuxedo.

I walked methodically toward the empty stage.

Every eye in the ballroom tracked my movement.

The shredded silk of my blouse hung uselessly from my shoulder, exposing the scars of my survival, but I climbed those carpeted steps as if I were clad in heavy titanium armor.

I reached the center of the dais and gripped the edges of the wooden podium.

I leaned into the microphone.