“Oh, Dad,” Annika said. A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye. “I did this so we’d always have a token of your love for Mom. I want her love for us to live on through Make Up.”

Her dad kissed the top of her head. “Good,” he said gruffly. “Good. Then you should do that. I’m sorry I ever stood in your way. You’re doing such good in the world, Ani.”

“Well, it’s not surgery,” Ani said, looking at him wryly.

He smiled. “It doesn’t have to be.”

She let his words wash over her. It doesn’t have to be. He was finally seeing her venture for what it was. He was finally accepting what she was trying to build.

“So,” he said, reaching into his coat pocket. “I’d like to invest in your business. As a way of showing my faith in you. Will you let me?”

Annika stared at him, feeling a swell of relief. Yes. It would be so easy. Her dad could make a huge dent in her back rent and business loan, and she could work out something with the bank for the rest of it. It would take her forever to pay her dad back, but she knew he wouldn’t ask her for it. And he clearly wouldn’t be hurting for the money, either. Not to mention, it’d take all the pressure off the EPIC pitch. It wouldn’t be such a do-or-die thing anymore. She opened her mouth to tell him the exact dollar amount she needed, knowing he’d write a check without a second thought.

And then she closed her mouth again.

“Ani?” He dad frowned.

Annika forced herself to shake her head. “N-no,” she heard herself saying. “No, that’s okay, Dad. I need to do this on my own.”

Her dad gave her a quizzical look. “But didn’t you say the bank was beginning eviction proceedings in July?”

“Yes.” Annika’s mouth felt suddenly dry. She licked her lips. Forcing herself to look into her dad’s eyes, she added more forcefully, “But I need to figure this out for myself. And I will.” After a pause, she added, “All my life, you’ve been there with your checkbook. But Make Up is different. This is my creation, and I want to be responsible for it.” She shrugged. “That’s how it is. Whether I sink or I swim, I want the onus to be on me and no one else.”

Her dad nodded slowly, though she could tell from his face that he was wrestling with a million things he wanted to say and advice he wanted to give. “Okay,” he said in the end, patting his coat pocket, as if resigning himself to the fact that his checkbook would have to remain there. “If you’re sure.”