“No sign of Jack, though,” Ellenor bites.
“It’s okay, Elle,” I murmur. “Can you give us the room?”
She looks ready to argue, but Mum gently steers her outside. “Call if you need anything, sweetheart.”
I clench my teeth as I turn to Daisy.
“I wasn’t sure if I should come,” she says, shifting her weight. When I don’t answer, she asks, “How’s the foot?”
“Been better,” I say flatly.
She nods, drifting closer. “I wanted to apologise to you. For what Jack did. And for not stepping in sooner.”
Where is Jack?I nearly ask, then realise I don’t care. Not really.
“It’s not right, him uploading your songs like that,” she continues. “Taking credit. I tried to get him to delete the videos, but he wouldn’t. But I’m going to make it right.”
Before I can ask her what she means, she drags a chair closer and perches on the edge. “I kicked him out of the café.”
I blink. “You what?”
“Sacked him.” There’s a flash of her usual fire in her eyes as she givesme a quick smile. “As you pointed out, it’smycafé. He blew up at me, of course—proper tantrum. I almost called the police on him.”
“But…how will you run it without him?”
She huffs a laugh. “It’s a café, not a ten-piece orchestra. We serve food and coffee. We’ll survive. And I’m sure I can find someone to help with the live music. I’d do it myself if I weren’t here so much. Anyway, just give it a day or two. I guarantee he’ll take the videos down.”
I sink back against the pillows, the ache in my foot pulsing. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because he’s terrified.” Her eyes meet mine. “And he always has been.”
That catches me. “Of what?”
“Someone realising he can’t write songs half as good as yours. Even if he gets away with the crap he’s pulled, he’ll always be looking over his shoulder, worrying that people will find out. And without the café? He’s got nothing steady to fall back on.”
“You could tell your dad,” I point out, watching her carefully. “Jack looks up to him.”
Her voice dips lower. “I could, but…I don’t want to hurt Jack. I just want him to stop being an idiot.”
There it is—the line she won’t cross.
Family before accountability.
A spark of anger flares.
Daisy knows Jack’s in the wrong. She could do more. She just…won’t.
If anything, she seems satisfied with how the conversation’s going, because her expression brightens. “Hey, once you’re better and this mess is sorted…would you consider coming back to the café? Play some gigs? I’d love to have you.”
I frown, my voice tight. “I don’t think Jack would be too pleased.”
She snorts. “Good. Serves him right. But forget about him for a sec. You liked playing there, didn’t you?”
For a heartbeat, I see the café—the fairy lights, the swell of conversation, the warmth of gathered people and the lull of music.
What I don’t see is me taking pleasure in pushing Jack out. The café is so much his space that I can’t imagine it without him. And I have no ambitions of filling his shoes.
“I think it’s best if I don’t go back,” I say with finality in my tone.
