After nearly two years of struggling on my own, I have a friend. “That means a lot, Penelope. Do you maybe want to get a drink tomorrow after I finish up at the food truck? I owe you for how you helped us today. And for listening to me wail yesterday.”

It’s something so simple—two friends spending time together. But it’s been so long since I’ve experienced that. And I miss it.

She drops to a more wistful tone. “I really am sorry about you and Callum. You can talk to me anytime about anything. And you don’t owe me. I would love to get a drink with you tomorrow though.”

“Seriously, Penelope. You are beyond amazing.”

I promise to text her when I get off work, she promises to think of a good place to meet, and we hang up.

I turn back to face Mom, bewilderment clear as day on her face. But I can’t be too surprised. I went from crying in front of her to smiling in the span of a few minutes.

I take a breath. “It’s going to be okay now. Penelope fixed everything. We still won, and we’re still getting the money. We’re just going to do the commercial for a different network. Chic TV instead of the Flavor Network.”

That joyful smile from before spreads across her face. “She did? Oh my gosh, we are? Oh, Chic TV is way better than the Flavor Network! They’re so stylish! And that’s your auntie Nora’s favorite channel, remember? Oh, I can’t wait to tell her! I’m going to call her now actually.”

She scurries to the bedroom for her phone, leaving me alone again in the kitchen. When I turn to close my laptop, my eyes catch on a comment right under the Chic TV post about us, and my hand freezes midair.

@HungryChaps: What @theFlavorNetwork did was a travesty. @Tivas won fair and square, with zero help from anyone—not even us. Well done, ladies.

Inside I soften at the public congratulations from Finn. It’s beyond gracious of him to make a statement like that on Hungry Chaps’ Instagram account.

And then my eyes fall to the comment below his. A user by the name of @FoodAndFinanceLad. My chest swells when I process it. That must be Callum’s account—the account he said he’s never once used, until today—to leave this comment.

More than well deserved. Nicely done, petal.

A flower emoji ends the comment. I can barely breathe.

I click on the profile, and sure enough, there are no other posts or stories. Just that one comment. No question, this is Callum’s account.