“You haven’t changed,” Penny said emphatically. She used her flip-flopped foot to wedge mine out of the doorway. I let her. “You’re just trying to give me an answer you think I’ll fall for.”

“That’s not what I’m—”

Her voice turned sharp. “Yeah. It is.”

“I don’t know how to get you back,” I said, voice small.

“Then don’t.”

My insides ached. Everything felt cold and hollow and carved-out.

“That’s for me to figure out,” said Penny. “Not for you. I get to be mad, Babe.” And then she closed the door.

Was I guilty of more than just kissing Chad? Was I guilty of everything else she’d accused me of? The anger felt different this time, muddied with confusion and hurt and the kind of loneliness that came from breaking up with your best friend. It felt like she had outgrown me in some way, as though I had clung too hard and held her back. Like she was static because of me.

“You sure everything in the delivery was in order?” Tom was asking Lucy as I entered Busy’s. He bent over the counter to peer at the huge pile of mail. Envelopes of all colors and sizes were dumped in front of him.

Dazed, I glanced at the ripped-open envelopes on the counter. “What’s up?”

“One of our suppliers has sent a bill for the coffee beans,” said Tom. “And I checked the back. Looks like we’re a little short. Has everything been unboxed and checked against the invoice?”

“Are you sure you looked everywhere? Maybe it’s still buried in the back somewhere?” suggested Lucy. “Ariel said she had done some, and then we finished the rest.”

“You girls are supposed to sort the mail, too,” said Tom. He swatted an envelope down on the counter. “Get rid of all the junk and hand the important stuff to me. Why is there such a pile here?”

Another one of Ariel’s jobs she’d failed to do.

While Tom ducked his head to sort through the envelopes, Lucy caught my eye. Ariel, she mouthed.

“Is Ariel coming in today?” Tom asked gruffly as I reached for my apron.

“No.” I tied the strings behind my back. “We, um, actually haven’t seen her too much lately.”

Tom’s face was resigned. “Had a feeling this would be coming,” he said with a sound that was halfway between a grunt and a scoff. “Babe. What are we doing about her?”

“She … she has to go,” I said. I shifted under Tom’s gaze. “I’m the manager. I’ll do it the next time she comes in and give her whatever she’s owed for the hours she’s actually worked.”

My earlier empathy for her had fizzled out as quickly as it’d started. Ariel’s situation wasn’t like mine. She’d used up her second chance. And her third. And her fourth. I still had my second chance.

Tom nodded slowly. “Sounds good. I’ll put up a sign in the window once that’s done.”