“What?”
“On Amazon.” She turns her phone toward me. “Wildfire Summeris the number one bestseller in the entire store. Your first three novels are also in the top fifty. And you’re number one in Contemporary Romance, Small Town Romance, AND Romantic Comedy.”
Holy shit.
Number one.
Macy screams with excitement. The entire café turns to look again.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” she asks.
“I didn’t know. I turned off notifications,” I say. “I couldn’t handle seeing—“
“So you haven’t checked your sales?” Jess interrupts.
“No. I’ve been too scared to look.”
“Look. Right. Now.”
My hands shake as I pull out my phone, go to my KDP account, and navigate to my dashboard.
And then I just stare.
The numbers don’t make sense. They can’t be real.
Sales in the thousands. Page reads through the roof. Money I’ve never seen from my books before. I’ve made more in the last three days than I usually make in half a year.
“Oh my god,” I whisper.
“See?” Jess says. “They tried to silence you and made you more popular instead.”
“I hit number one the same day my shop got destroyed.” I can’t stop staring at the numbers. “How is that even—“
“Because people are furious about what is happening to you,” Macy says. “They’re buying your book to support you. And thenreading it and loving it. I bet your presales for book two are through the roof.”
I glance up at Mateo. He’s watching me with pride.
“This money,” I say slowly. “These sales. It’s because of Sierra Rose Ridge. The real town inspired the fictional one.”
“People know. They’ll want to visit,” Jess adds. “They’ll want to see the place that inspired the book.”
The idea forms before I have a chance to discourage it. “What if I put some of this money back into the community? Fund more murals like Isabel’s. Support local businesses. Show them that my book isn’t something to be ashamed of, it’s a celebration of this town.”
“That’s your statement,” Jess says quietly.
I look at her. “What?”
“That’s what you say at the town hall, not just that you’re staying. That you’re investing. Your success is their success too.”
She’s right.
God, she’s right.
I look around the table at my friends. Jess, fierce and loyal. Macy, enthusiastic and brave. Dean, quiet and supportive.
And Mateo, who’s been calling me his treasure for five years. Who stopped me last night because he wanted me to be sure. Who sees every version of me—the scared one, the angry one, the one who almost ran—and stays anyway.
His hand finds mine under the table. Squeezes.
