“I’ve got no idea,” Jo said, her face into the desk. The sound was muffled, but the words themselves were clear. “I’m supposed to know, aren’t I? I’m in charge. But I don’t know what else I can do. I don’t have any money myself. Everything I had saved was in that petty cash account. I wanted to buy a stake in the store. Prove I could do a better job of running it. But I was in over my head, and I had no idea Archer was undermining me the whole time. And it’s not like anybody will give me a loan; my student loans are through the roof. I think I’m as maxed-out as I can be, especially given my income. Maybe I can refinance those. Do we have time to refinance those? Can I refinance those and add more debt to them? I mean, does it really matter anymore? All my dreams of saving this place have gone up in smoke. Actually, not smoke, no. They’ve gone up in Air Jordans and a fistfight.” Jo didn’t even laugh at her own bad joke. It was like she told it so she could express her misery in the worst kind of humor.

This was when Daniella stepped up, took charge. “Look, Jo, I have a plan.”

“It’s not a very good plan,” interrupted Rinn.

“It’s a plan.” Daniella folded her arms across her chest. Daniella, Imogen was learning, was not one to ever cede ground. Daniella would charge forward, and she would protect herself against all odds.

But Rinn interrupted. “Let me guess. It involves unloading the merch back onto an unsuspecting person of the internet.”

Daniella was about to fume. “It’s a good enough plan. It at least keeps you from having to take out a shitty loan. It’s not a bad plan.”

Imogen realized in an instant that Daniella and Rinn were like wind and flame. They were only going to make each other worse. They needed a go-between, someone to ground them both. They were on the same side. They each saw the same problem. But with different perspectives. There had to be an intermediary—a go-between—or they would turn into a raging, city-wide fire.

Imogen made a decision. “Look, it is a plan. And while it is probably an amoral or even an immoral plan, it’s definitely a plan. Good job, Daniella.”

Daniella looked disgruntled but mollified.

Imogen was not quite finished, though. “But Rinn is probably right that unloading our problem onto the next person is not really a great or viable solution. We might be, like, endangering another Eli in another place. Like, the Eli of Nowhere, Minnesota.”

Daniella snorted. “Whatever.”

Rinn crossed her arms and glared. “It wouldn’t be whatever to that person.”

“But we’d live to see another day.” Daniella was becoming increasingly less mollified.