Violet nods. “You’ve always come alive when you’re creating. Designing. Organizing. Making beauty out of chaos. That’s your thing. And if there’s anything that’ll remind you who you are, it’s that.”

I stare at her for a long moment, then look down at my hands. They’re trembling. But maybe—just maybe—they still remember how to build something.

Violet clears the plates and tidies my kitchen while I stay perched at the counter, still bundled in clean pajamas, damp hair, and a raw heart.

She half turns, her gaze catching mine. “How is your money situation?”

I arch a brow. “You want a breakdown of my net worth?”

She tosses a dish towel at me. “I wanna be reassured that you’re not one missed-rent payment away from sleeping on my sofa.”

“I’m fine. You know me. I’ve been smart. I have investments. Decent savings. I won’t be on your couch anytime soon. Promise.”

Violet nods, satisfied. But I can tell the what’s coming next before she ever opens her mouth.

“And work?”

I wince. “No clue. I haven’t looked. I know I need to, but I––” I trail off, trying to find the right words.

She picks up the thread for me. “You’re afraid of giving your heart to another company, another boss, only to be tossed out again like you never mattered.”

I nod. “Right.”

We’re quiet for a beat, the soft hum of the refrigerator the only sound.

Violet leans forward on the counter. “It could be time for you to stop giving your heart away and build something that’s yours.”

I blink. “Meaning what? Start a business?”

She shrugs. “Why not?”

“Because I’ve just emerged from my own personal apocalypse?”

She points at me with a smirk. “Which makes it the perfect time. You’ve already hit rock bottom, and the only direction is up. Now you get to build with no fear of falling.”

I roll my eyes. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“You know what I mean.”

I chew on the thought, unsure. “It’s not like I have a business plan just waiting in a drawer.”

“No, but you’ve got talent. Vision. A killer work ethic. Connections. And don’t even get me started on your style choices. People would kill for your eye, Mags.”

I let the silence stretch for a long moment. And then, with hesitation, I say what’s on my mind. “I could pull from my retirement. The tax hit would be a bitch, but it’s the only way.”

Violet’s eyes light up. “Now that’s the Magnolia Steel I love.”

A tiny ember of purpose glows inside me. I shake my head, the confession falling from my lips before I can filter it. “I don’t know where to start or what the hell I’m doing.”

“But you want to figure it out, don’t you?”