“She said you’d say that too.” He chuckles and pulls out a hundred-dollar bill this time, along with another folder. “She gave me this with strict orders to only give this to you if you came back with questions. She wanted you to come to your own decision with the Book Nook. In her heart, she knew you wouldn’t sell it and she didn’t want to pressure you to do something you weren’t comfortable with. But she also knew that you wouldn’t be happy there.”

He places this folder on top of the unexpected payout, his hand lingering above it. The good-natured humor on his face only seconds ago is gone, replaced by a look one could only describe as concern.

“There’s information in here she wanted you to have. There’s property values from before she passed that would’ve gone up by now, same with rent prices. She also had contacted someone at Prose and Fable to ask about selling them the Book Nook with the understanding that it would stay the Book Nook, but they would pay you for the rights to take over.”

My heart flips and my stomach turns.

That must’ve been what she was talking to Connor about, and to Jasper as well. She wasn’t trying to get rid of it; she was doing what she always did, taking care of me.

Even when I didn’t know I needed it.

“But before you go and look these options over, I need you to know what Alice told me when I asked her why she wanted to wait to give you all of this.”

My cheeks are wet and my mouth is dry as I nod for him to continue.

“She said that you’d been through a lot and she knew you would need the Book Nook if anything happened to her. I don’t know all of the details, but she made it clear that there was a community there that would support you and help you move on. She didn’t want you to have the Book Nook to continue her legacy—you were her legacy. She wanted you to have the store in order to take care of yourself so you could live out your dreams like she lived out hers. Alice Young adored you in a way that I will never forget and I really hope you never do either.”

Well, if I wasn’t already crying, I would be now.

Because this man, this stranger, reminded me of what I’d somehow forgotten. I buried my pain in the work. I tried to hold on to the memory of my grandma through a place, when that building was never what made my time there special. It was her.

And it still is.

“Thank you.” It’s not enough for all he’s given me, but it’s all I have.