The mood at Harris’s party fell as Democratic hopes faded.

Just after midnight, a few hundred feet from where Kamala Harris was supposed to stand on stage during an election party at Howard University in Washington, D.C., a handful of students huddled together.

They said they began their evening in ecstasy, ready to celebrate the Howard graduate’s ascension to the highest office in the United States.

The Democratic presidential candidate decided to return to her alma mater to mark the occasion, but later canceled her planned appearance as the mood soured and Trump’s victory began to look all but certain.

“I was so excited, like it was history in the making,” recalls 20-year-old Corey Ross. “No other campus has a future president or at least a current vice president on site.”

When the nation’s first two swing states—Georgia and North Carolina—were forecast for Donald Trump, the collective change in sentiment was evident.

“We’re panicking,” Ross’s fellow student Drew Strand said during the “super-stressful” experience of watching the results come back.

The crowd gathered in Howards Yard, the leafy courtyard in the center of the university, began to thin as hundreds of people seemed to stream out of campus on the cool fall evening.

Those who remained seemed to capture the enthusiasm of a few hours earlier, dancing and singing along to the music of Usher, Kendrick Lamar and Beyoncé blasting from speakers scattered around the courtyard.

Just hours earlier on Tuesday, the mood on Howard’s campus was ebullient, reminiscent of the joy and enthusiasm that characterized the early days of Harris’ presidential campaign.

Thousands of people stood outside under the night sky, ready to celebrate the country’s first female president.

Unlike Hillary Clinton, who made gender a central plank of her 2016 campaign, Harris has largely avoided discussions about identity and the historical potential of her campaign.

Yet Tuesday night’s choice of venue was filled with symbolism, capping Harris’ campaign at Howard, one of the nation’s preeminent historically black colleges and universities (HBCUs).

Many in the crowd were decked out in Howard merchandise or regalia from Harris sorority Alpha Kappa Alpha (AKA), the first black sorority in the country, the sorority’s trademark hot pink color standing out in a sea of ​​people.

“It means a lot that she decided to come home,” said Patrice Williams, an AKA member who visited another HBCU in the country.

After months of polls showing the candidates nearly tied, early voting data gave Harris’ team some cause for optimism: Women, who polls show support Harris by significant margins, turned out in record numbers.

And when early results showed Harris boasting a modest lead in the crucial states of Pennsylvania and Michigan, the gathered crowd erupted with excitement, believing the evening was tilting in her favor.

But that cautious excitement soon gave way to anxiety as Harris’ path to the White House looked increasingly unlikely, blocked by Trump’s accumulating state victories.

“It’s very nerve-wracking,” Ross said. “I feel like people don’t understand what’s really at stake. By the end of the week, a lot could change and we could be living in a completely different country.”

Others spoke of their fear of another contested election, fearing that violence would break out regardless of the outcome.

Howard student and Harris supporter Kimathi Talton, 20, called it a “losing proposition.”

“If Trump wins, that’s obviously bad. But even if Kamala wins—God willing—I have no doubt that Trump supporters will respond with violence,” he said. “I am very afraid of any outcome.”

By the time Pennsylvania—perhaps the most important of all the swing states—was targeted for Trump, Howard’s campus was virtually deserted. On large projection screens, the bright blue Harris-Waltz sign illuminated the nearly deserted campus.

Kabila Magnum, 31, was one of the few remaining supporters.

Magnum, who had painted her eyes pink to celebrate her AKA membership, felt the mood change in real time, the sudden deflation in the crowd around her.

“The energy is down,” she said. But she remained stubbornly optimistic: the votes still needed to be counted.

“We’re not done yet. It’s not over until it’s done,” she said.