“Well, yes.” He knitted his eyebrows together, as if this should’ve been obvious. “What else is left to do?”

Much as she was trying to restrain herself, Annika could feel her emotions beginning to bubble over, like they usually did around her dad. It was like this house was a time-traveling capsule; she got whooshed back to her teen years the moment she stepped through the door.

Annika threw her hands up in the air. “I could try to save my business? I could maybe not give up so easily?”

Her father watched her like she was an alien descending from a giant glowing spaceship. “Why are you getting so upset?”

Annika spluttered. “Are you serious? Dad, we’ve been having this same exact conversation for almost a year. You just refuse to listen. I. Don’t. Want. To. Go. To. Medical. School. I’m a business owner. My business is called Make Up.”

Her dad cleared his throat, as if he were buying time, trying to think about how to say what he wanted to say. “But … will you have a business by the end of the summer? It doesn’t sound like it.”

Annika grabbed her head with both hands. “Dad! Don’t you see how unsupportive that is? Don’t you understand that your complete lack of enthusiasm for my career, for my passion, is a constant cloud hanging over my head?” She took a breath and looked her father in his bewildered face. “Do you know you’re half the reason I even came up with the idea in the first place?

“I wanted to do something that would be an homage to your love for Mom. I couldn’t give you guys a second chance, but maybe I could give other people that chance. I wanted Make Up to be a place where lost, lonely people could come to believe in the power of love again. Sure, I’m stumbling right now. But I refuse to believe it’s over.” As she spoke, Annika realized it was true. She couldn’t give up. Not now, not ever. This was Make Up, her baby. She wasn’t going down without a fight.

Annika flung the throw to the side and stood. Her voice shook as she said, “I’m just sorry you don’t see that. I’m sorry you don’t believe in me or my dreams. Because I really could’ve used your support.” Brushing away her tears with a fist, she walked to the door.

“Ani,” her dad began. “Wait.”

“No, Dad. I’m done talking about this.” She yanked open the heavy front door and strode into the fading light of dusk, got into her car, and drove down the street before pulling over and texting June.

We’re not gonna give up without a fight.

June’s response came back immediately. No we are NOT