“She’s right,” Rebecca said in a gentle voice. “I know this feels overwhelming right now, but if I had any doubt at all that you could turn this place into that dream you see in your head, I would tell you. You’re looking in that box and seeing the things you’ve quit, but I can look at your life and see the things you haven’t.” She squeezed Kincaid’s knee. “You came from less than nothing. You had so much working against you. Do you know how many people actually make it out of that kind of situation?”

Kincaid was curled into Liv’s shoulder, but Liv could sense she was listening.

“You had no one giving you a hand. You had a mother who probably should’ve been locked up for negligence. An absentee father. You survived a goddamned massacre,” Liv said. “Yet you walked away from those things and built a career. You saved your money and bought a house. You brought us back together and have been such an amazing friend to each of us that none of us would be where we are right now without you in our corner. Now, you’re starting your own business.” She brushed a hand over her friend’s hair. “You, Kincaid Breslin, are astounding.”

“And amazing,” Taryn added.

“And adored,” Rebecca said with a smile.

“And absolutely not alone,” Liv finished.

Kincaid sniveled against Liv’s shoulder. “Yeah?”

Liv smiled. “One hundred percent. You are stuck with us, cookie. Get used to it.”

Kincaid lifted her head and looked at all of them, a quivery little smile breaking through. “Hey. You can’t steal my baked-goods terms of endearment. They’re trademarked.”

“I apologize.” Liv said with a grin. “But seriously, close your eyes for a second.”

Kincaid lifted a brow but obliged.

Liv looked to Rebecca and Taryn and then back to Kincaid. “I want you to imagine it’s two years from now. You’ve saved some money and found a few investors. You’ve made the bed-and-breakfast into the place you imagined when we first stepped inside the farmhouse. It’s now your opening weekend. You’re standing on the porch, you’re humming with excitement, and your hand is on the doorknob. You open the door to go inside. What do you see?”

Kincaid kept her eyes closed and took a deep breath before wetting her lips. “I see a big arrangement of wildflowers on the table by the door, and I hear people talking. I walk in, and the hardwood floors are buffed to a shine and creak just enough to be comforting. There’s music playing, someone tinkering on the piano in the room off to the left. In the main living room, it’s afternoon snack time. The smell of fresh baked cookies and brewed coffee is in the air. Two kids are sitting in front of the fireplace playing a board game. Adults are chatting. The whole room is done in whites and earthy greens. It’s almost Christmas, and a giant tree has been put up in front of the main windows. Each guest gets to make and add their own ornament.”