somberness fills the house the next morning. I wake up extra early to make everyone pancakes, but they come out all wonky and slightly burned, a bad omen in itself. If Lexi were here, breakfast would be perfect.

Dad comes down shortly after, taking his usual seat at the table. I already have his coffee ready, so I pour him a cup, watching as he brings it to his lips.

When he winces, I say, "What? Don't you like it?"

His wince suddenly morphs into an obviously forced smile. "No, it's nice," he says, taking another sip, but another grimace follows. "It's...spicy. Why is it spicy?"

"I thought I'd make it healthy by adding a kick of cinnamon."

He grimaces again, pushing the coffee cup away from him. "Is that what you served at the cafe? Cause if so, I'm starting to see why it was in such a dire state."

I frown a little. "I never made the coffee, I just poured it."

"Well, that's a relief."

I roll my eyes as he examines the pancakes on the table. "You're sad," he says. "You only attempt to cook when you're sad."

My head snaps up. "Aren't you? The cafe – what's left of it – is being sold today."

He sighs and reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. "I am," he says, sighing, "I think the whole neighborhood is. Kali was saying he that he can't believe this is really happening, nobody can, but do you want to know what I think?"

I fold my arms, certain he's about to give me another fortune cookie-style motivational quote. "What?"

"Don't be sad it's over," he says. "Be glad it happened."

"Did you get that off the internet?"

"No, I came up with it myself."

"Liar."

He grins and says, "The point still stands. It's okay to be sad, Evvy, I'm not saying it's not, but I also don't want this to eat you up, or come between you and Jordan. Believe it or not," he stops to give another grimace, "for the spawn of Satan, he's not so bad."

I smile a little, unable to help it. Jordan chooses now to come walking into the kitchen, an adorable grin on his face. "Not bad for the spawn of satan, huh? I'll take it."

"Good," I say, "because coming from him, that's practically the highest form of flattery."

Dad wiggles his eyebrows and offers Jordan a seat. The three of us end up having such a good breakfast that I forget all about the cafe. I just focus on now, on the sound of Jordan's laugh as Dad teases me again, or the way Dad's eyes light up every time I smile. For the next fifteen minutes, I don't focus on the bad stuff: I focus on being happy.

***

s soon as we step outside, my stomach chruns. The air feels thick as we pause in the driveway, neither of us sure of what to say.

"Maybe I should do this alone," Jordan says.

Maybe he's right, but I'm not going anywhere. As much as it will hurt to come face to face with Landon Rivers, Jordan needs me today. "No, I want to come."

He looks hesitant. "Evvy–"

"What if I tell you I promise to be on my best behavior?"

He smirks and pulls me closer by my waist, his eyes squarely focused on my lips. "I'd say that's impossible for you." He leans in closer, kissing my neck, before he lets out a frustrated sigh. "Come on, we're meeting him at the ice cream shack."

"A fitting place to do business," I say.

He gives me a look as we slowly start our walk, his fingers firmly threaded through mine. It's silent for the most part, only the sound of the birds to be heard, but I like it this way. Right now, the silence feels comforting. Safe.

Every so often, the odd car passes by and disappears around the curve of the road. The place has been a ghost town since the hurricane, the tourists no doubt huddled on the mainland. It means the place feels quiet for once, peaceful, as though the island finally has the chance to breathe.

A few islanders are up to clear the rubble. I feel myself twitch, desperate to go over and help, but right now, the cafe needs me. Jordan needs me. He stops just before we reach the shack and turns, pulling me closer by my hand.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Promise me," he says, his voice quiet. "Promise me that after we walk out of there, nothing is going to change with us."

For a moment, I hesitate, the promise caught between my lips. The thought of anything changing is terrifying, but maybe my dad is right. Change is inevitable – it's what we do after that counts.

"Even if they do, we'll be fine, okay?"

Relief fills his eyes, and we turn, about to head into the ice cream shack when a black car pulls up. Landon steps out and straightens out his suit, slipping on his sunglasses. A cold shiver runs through me, all the way down to my toes. I'd told myself I'd be calm and reasonable, that I wouldn't let my emotions get the best of me once I saw him. But seeing him wearing that slimy, smug smile makes my blood boil.

I freeze in position, torn between storming toward him and storming in the opposite direction. This sale with Landon is Jordan's last hope; I can't be the one to ruin that. I decide to hover back as Jordan walks up to him and briefly shakes his hand. They exchange a few words as I inch my way over, attempting to remain composed.

"So, I'll be brutally honest," Landon says, his voice monotone, "the cafe is a dump. Always has been, even before the hurricane." He smiles again, making me feel sick. "Good job I'm about to save it and you."

The last of my resolve fades to nothing. I take a step forward, dodging Jordan's outstretched hand, and position myself in front of Landon. "The only thing this place needs saving from is you."

Landon stops, then narrows his eyes. "Excuse me?"

I fold my arms, about to take another step, but Jordan holds me back. "It didn't take you long did it?" I say. "You didn't even wait for the rubble to settle before you came knocking. You should be ashamed of yourself. People's livelihoods are being destroyed, and you're here ready to swoop in like the vulture you are. You're not a savior, you're an opportunist."

Landon smiles that slimy smile. He straightens out his suit and crouches to my height like he's talking to an insolent child. "I don't think we've officially met. I'm Landon R–"

I'm ready to punch him, but Jordan's got an iron grip, his arms like a barrier around me. He leans in closer, his voice warm and low against my ear. "Evvy, don't."

His voice breaks through the haze of red, making me pause. Landon straightens up again, but the fake smile on his face has faded now, replaced with a look of distaste. "It's nothing personal," Landon says. "It's just business. In fact, given Mr. Woods' situation, it seems I'm the only person willing to help. Now, if we're done with the theatrics, Mr. Woods and I have some business to discuss."

I swallow hard, turning slightly to look at Jordan. His eyes are dark, filled with hate and distrust for Landon, but also desperation. They look right at me, searching my face for confirmation.

Briefly, I nod. He grabs my hand hard, squeezing it tight as we follow Landon inside. I zone out for most of the discussion, replaying Landon's words in my head. Given Mr. Woods' situation, it seems I'm the only person willing to help.

Maybe he's right. Maybe instead of helping the cafe, I should have done more to help Jordan. It's not as if anybody else really cared about the cafe going under – not even Lexi. Maybe this whole time, everyone could see what I couldn't.

It's time to let go.

❤️