“Yeah. Yeah, that’s sort of… happening? Maybe? I had to sign with an agent first, which I did. And the editor wanted me to adapt the original webcomics, but it didn’t feel quite right, writing about… her. So I’m taking the parts that worked, and I’m writing something new. Something a little more… magical. It’s possible the editor won’t want it when it’s done, but…” I shrug, and I mean that shrug. Maybe this won’t work out. I don’t really have a plan for what happens next.

Andrew flashes me his most charming, most sincere smile. “I hope you’ll let me read it when you’re finished. I could use a little magic. Speaking of…” He reaches for his pocket again. “I have one more thing for you.”

“Is it a car? Because I could really use a car.”

He pulls out a sheet of paper, this one folded haphazardly into quarters. When I unfold it, I see that it’s a flyer.

THE BUTCH OVEN SOFT OPENING.

“Andrew…”

The paper is glossy, with a purple background, the words in white, loopy script. In the middle of the page is a cartoon, rainbow-colored Dutch oven.

“Andrew…” I start again.

“Yeah,” he says, like he understands this one glossy sheet of paper is worth more than the pages folded inside that envelope. “She’s really doing it.”

Ridiculous, sentimental tears prickle in the back of my eyes. “I always knew she could.”

“I didn’t,” Andrew admits, his voice low. “I should have, but I didn’t. You know, one night a few weeks ago, we got drunk and she told me everything about what happened between the two of you. She told me she never would’ve believed she could do it if you hadn’t believed in her first. I never thought my sister could stay focused on a goal like this long enough to achieve it, and I know that makes me an asshole.”

I set the flyer down on the bedspread in front of me, too overwhelmed to look at the cute font and the even cuter Dutch oven. “Jack was always capable of this. She just spent her whole life being told she was a slacker and a fuck-up, and she just needed—”

“Someone who could really see her?” Andrew fills in, looking at me pointedly. “Ellie, what happened between the two of you?”

I shift back against the pillows. “You just said Jack told you everything.”

“I want to hear it from you,” he says. “Because based on what I do know, I’m having a difficult time understanding why you’re not together right now.”

“Probably because I was fake-engaged to her brother and lied to her about it,” I joke.

Andrew isn’t joking. His tone is completely serious when he asks me, “Why did you and Jack fall apart?”