June hopped off her chair and began to do toe touches. “Me too.”

Annika snorted. “I’m glad no one can see us right now.” And then she went back to pacing.

Her phone rang exactly ten minutes later, noon on the dot. June stared at her, her face flushed from the toe touches. “Oh my god. This is it. This is it.”

“Yes.” Annika took a deep breath. “No matter what, we played our hearts out. And we should be proud of that.”

June nodded, breathless, as Annika pushed the button to take the call. She put it on speaker and said, “This is Annika Dev with Make Up.”

A woman’s voice came through in a clipped tone. “Ms. Dev, hello. My name is Tori Thompson, and I’m one of the board members for the EPIC pitch contest. I’m notifying all of the participants of their status in the contest.”

Annika’s heart sank. This was not how you’d begin the call for the winning team. There was no excitement or enthusiasm in the woman’s voice at all.

“Okay,” she said quietly, unable to meet June’s eye. She didn’t want to see the dashed hope there, not while she was nursing her own.

“Your app, Make Up, was the winner. Congratulations. We will set up a meeting to discuss details, but the EPIC investment team will be putting forward a minimum sum of five hundred thousand dollars into your company.”

Annika stared at the phone. In her peripheral vision, she could see June jerk her head up. “I—I’m sorry?” Her voice croaked, but she didn’t care.

“Congratulations,” the woman said again, more slowly. “Your app, Make Up, was the winner.”

“Oh my god,” Annika said, her skin rippling with sudden goose bumps. “Oh my god—we won?” She looked at June, who began jumping around the office, her mouth open in a silent scream, tears of happiness rushing down her face. “We won?” Annika said louder.

There was a long pause. “Yes. You are the winner.” The woman was clearly not a fan of emotions or inflections of any kind. “Since the investors were too busy to call everyone themselves, we asked them to write the winner an email. You should see that arrive in your inbox any minute now.”

“Wait, wait,” Annika said, sensing that the woman was about to end the call. “What about—what about Break Up? Were they a close second?” She looked at June, who’d stopped jumping. Annika couldn’t believe Break Up hadn’t won, especially when she’d been so not on her game.

“Break Up withdrew from the competition.”

Annika’s breath caught in her throat. “What? When?”

“The morning of EPIC. The CEO cited personal reasons as the cause for their inability to compete.”

“Personal reasons” was purposefully vague. “But … but why, specifically?” She looked at June, whose hands were now clapped over her mouth.