It’s almost painful how much relief crashes into me upon hearing that. I wasn’t the only one who struggled without having my best friend at my side. She missed me just as much as I missed her, and that means everything.

“Never again,” I say vehemently, pulling back to look her in the eye. “I’m so sorry for everything I missed. I should have been there for you, but I wasn’t. We almost lost—”

Rosie shakes her head. “Don’t even finish that sentence. Our friendship is strong enough to survive anything, Mina.”

My lips are trembling, even as they curve into a smile. “I’m going to do better, I promise.” I hold my pinky out. “I love you forever.”

Rosie grins, her cheeks warm with color as she holds out her pinky. “So am I. I love you forever.”

We reach for each other at the same time again, laughing wetly as we sway in an endless hug.

Things are going to be okay. There is light in the world again.

You are the light.

Now I just need to talk to one more person.

In Italian, I look for Emmitt’s blond head, but don’t find it beside Grant. I frown, glancing at the doorway. Maybe he’s running late.

I don’t know what to say to him. He was right and he was looking out for me, but—I also wonder if I wasn’t a little right, too. I wish he’d chase after his dreams without worrying about ruining his relationship with his mother.

In retrospect, I can tell it’s because he’s scared, the same way I’ve been scared. We put so much of ourselves into our dreams that we risk being left with nothing if it doesn’t work out.

Even though I think Emmitt deserves to pursue his photography passion, I shouldn’t have phrased it the way I did. I was angry and upset and I let it out in the heat of the moment, when I should have approached the conversation a lot more gently.

Either way, I owe him an apology. He never responded to my text from yesterday, and I don’t blame him—he lost something important to him. If it were me, I probably wouldn’t be jumping to reply to anyone’s texts, either.

A minute later, the bell rings, and there’s no sight of Emmitt. I swivel in my seat to look at Grant, but he’s diligently taking notes.

I wrinkle my nose, turning to glance at Rosie, but she seems similarly bemused at Emmitt’s absence. A deep sense of gratitude rushes through me at the fact I even can look at her—that we’re back on the same brain waves of understanding without needing to speak.