"Everybody knows."
Naomi nodded.
"I know."
Imani looked toward her.
"Some people think you wanted this to happen."
For a moment, Naomi felt tears gather.
Then she shook her head.
"Sweetheart, I wanted to come home, eat dinner, and take off that enormous dress."
Imani laughed weakly.
Naomi smiled.
Then grew serious.
"I didn't want any of this. And I wouldn't choose it for you."
Her daughter leaned against her shoulder.
For several seconds, they sat quietly.
Then Imani whispered.
"Sometimes I wish you had a normal job."
Naomi closed her eyes.
The words hurt.
But she understood where they came from.
"Sometimes I do too," she admitted.
Imani looked surprised.
Naomi kissed the top of her head.
"Being chief matters to me. But being your mother matters more."
Her daughter wrapped her arms around her.
And for the rest of the evening, Naomi refused to answer work calls unless they involved something genuinely urgent.
The hospital foundation contacted Naomi several days later.
The couture designer had seen images of the damaged gown and offered to inspect and repair it.
Naomi initially declined.
She was embarrassed by how much attention the clothing received.
The dress felt trivial compared with the questions surrounding the detention.
But the foundation's director explained that the gown had been loaned as part of the fundraising partnership and that the designer wanted to preserve the piece rather than assign blame.
Naomi agreed to return it for assessment.
The designer's representative examined the satin folds, torn glove, and damaged decorative elements.
Several sections required careful restoration.
The bodice had survived.
The enormous olive-gold bow remained intact.
But the fabric carried creases and scuffs from being forced against the car.
The representative approached the repairs professionally.
No dramatic statements.
No publicity campaign.
Just careful attention to an elaborate garment.
When Naomi later visited the studio, the designer spoke with her privately.
"I saw what happened."
Naomi looked away.
The woman continued.
"I know a dress isn't the most important part of that day."
Naomi nodded.
"No."
"But I also know you chose to wear something beautiful. You shouldn't have to associate it forever with someone treating you badly."
For a moment, Naomi couldn't speak.
Then she looked toward the restored skirt.
The metallic fabric gleamed beneath the lights.
The enormous sculptural folds had been carefully reconstructed.
Her eyes filled.
She hadn't realized how much the damaged gown represented until she saw it whole again.
The designer smiled gently.
"It's yours to wear with joy again."
Naomi took a long breath.
Then whispered, "Thank you."
Three months after the encounter, the administrative findings were completed.