She turned to her father. “I found Grandmother Ellen’s journal after Mom died. I was snooping in your study. The whole story was there. What she contributed to the wine. Then I went looking for the bottles that remained and found them in here.”
Baron’s expression was unreadable.
“When Kick told me what they’d been doing, I immediately knew what you’d need to finish it.”
“Is that why you came tonight? To rub our noses in it? Do you even know why Saffron wanted to make the wine? What’s at stake?”
“You’re right about why I showed up at Los Cab.”
“Isabel,” Baron said carefully. “Where is the wine?”
“The night Kick told me the truth about the auction, I was so angry, so hurt, I came here, intending to smash every single bottle. To destroy any chance you’d have to finish the wine.”
The room went dead quiet.
Saffron stood perfectly still beside me, her arms wrapped around herself.
“You said you intended to smash every bottle,” I said quietly, watching Isabel’s face. “What did you do instead?”
Isabel’s expression shifted. “I didn’t do it.” She looked at her father. “Then tonight, when I heard you tell the story about why Ellen wouldn’t give them the wine—” Her voice cracked. “About her regret…”
“Where is the wine?” Baron repeated.
“I’ll show you?—”
“Wait,” said Saffron. She’d straightened and dropped her arms to her sides, but her face was deathly pale.
When I reached for her hand, she turned to Isabel. “You’re right. What we did was wrong.”
“This isn’t on you, Saffron. It was me—” I started.
“No, it wasn’t just you, Snapper. I could’ve said no.” Her eyes scrunched, then filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Isabel. For all of it. For making you feel that way. It was cruel, and I’m—I’m so sorry.”
Isabel stared at her, as if the apology stunned her.
“It’s over. We’re not releasing the wine,” Saffron continued. “Not like this. Not when it’s built on hurting someone.”
“What?” The word came out sharper than I intended. “Saffron, you can’t just give up?—”
“Some things matter more than the winery. My father knows it, and so do I.” She stepped closer to Isabel. “The cycle of hurt ends here. Tonight.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Isabel said flatly.
Saffron blinked. “What?”
“You don’t get to give up and call it noble.” Isabel squared her shoulders. “That’s not ending the cycle. That’s just quitting.”
“I don’t understand?—”
Isabel stepped closer too. “I’m not letting you give up.” Isabel looked between us. “You, me, and Snapper are going to finish what our grandmothers started. That’s how this ends. Not with you martyring yourself. Yes, the cycle of hurt ends now, but not because we quit.”
Saffron opened her mouth, then closed it.
“I heard everything my father said tonight. Ellen let pride destroy something beautiful,” Isabel continued. “I’m not making that mistake. I’m not living a life of regret like she did. And I’m not going to let you either.” She held out her hand. “Partners?”
Saffron stared at Isabel’s outstretched hand for several seconds, then closed the distance between them and hugged her instead. “Partners,” I heard her say.
18
