“Oh.” My fingers tighten on the counter. “I—I can’t afford that.”
“I understand,” he says. “No pressure. We can hold ithere until you decide.”
I rub my eyes. “What about without the sea glass?”
“That’s not the expensive part,” Ed says, and my heart falls as he gives me a slightly smaller figure. It would empty my bank account—and require another loan from Mum.
“I’ll have to pass,” I stammer. “Just…send it back.”
A pause. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Thanks for having a look at it.” That’s all I can manage before hanging up.
I realise I’m standing in the bedroom, staring at the empty space at the foot of the bed.
The guilt hits immediately—like I’ve wasted his time. And Brandon’s time.
And worse: I’ve failed myself. I’m going to let the most precious gift Dad ever gave me stay broken.
I run a trembling hand over the case.
Miracles aren’t cheap.
I sit on the edge of the bed for a long time, feeling as lost as the girl who arrived at Heathrow months ago.
But I’m not her anymore, and I don’t have any tears left to shed.
Taking a deep breath, I dial another number.
When she picks up, I clear my throat. “Daisy, hi. I’ve been thinking about your offer.”
***
It’s a Monday night, and Brandon holds the door to Willoughby’s Café open for me as I step inside with his guitar strapped to my back. The bell jingles softly, and the rich smell of roasted coffee wraps around me like a blanket. Daisy looks up from behind the bar, her tired expression brightening beneath her streak of pink hair.
“Lily! You’re walking!”
“Hobbling,” I correct, though I can’t help smiling at my easy strides as I go to the stage to set up.
When I return to perch on a barstool beside Brandon, she slides a blue cocktail towards me. “On the house.”
“You don’t have to keep giving me free drinks,” I protest.
“Iknow,” she says with a shrug. “But I still feel like I owe you.”
I’ve offered to do a couple of gigs to help her out, letting her slot me in wherever she needs. It’s only until I head off on our road trip, but it takes some pressure off her. Especially now, with her hospital shifts, the café being…well, very elaborate by design, thanks to Jack. And he’s no longer holding it all together behind the scenes.
Brandon has a cocktail too, and he gives me a fond smile as he plucks the little umbrella into mine.
“Aww, cute!” Daisy says to us.
I sip the last of the cocktail, nerves beginning to hum beneath my skin. I’m about to go on stage when Brandon’s hand lands gently on my shoulder. I look up. His expression is tight, his body suddenly alert.
I follow his gaze.
Jack is standing just inside the doorway.
His eyes widen when he sees me. He stops short—a shocked silence falling over the room.
