And it didn’t matter, Daniella realized, if the crowd went wild or not. It didn’t matter if there was thunderous applause or a polite clap. Because she’d done it. She’d performed her poetry, and she’d let her voice out of her notebook and into the world. There was nothing anybody could do to stop her ever again.

Daniella was infinite. She was invincible.

29

Hope Is the Thing with Feathers

8:02 P.M.

Rinn

The line to get Daniella to sign a fake Air Jordan wound around the store and practically out the door. Everyone had gone mental after that first poem. Daniella had talent, that was for sure. And then the context of that talent had sparked something spectacular. Nobody expected the peroxide blonde with Debbie Harry vibes to be the one who was into writing old-fashioned sonnets. And definitely hadn’t expected them to be any good.

Rinn smiled, watching Daniella’s stunned reaction. She was glowing—slightly confused as to how she’d ended up in this position—but glowing. It was like she didn’t know that she could put a spotlight on herself for the things she cared about until this moment. Rinn loved getting to see people have that moment. Where they found themselves.

Rinn usually helped people do that by finding the right books for them. By encouraging them to read. But with Daniella it had been poetry. People were asking her to sign the Jordans and draw sketches on them afterward.

It was something to watch Daniella succeed like that.

Rinn went over to Imogen. “How’s it looking?”

Imogen shook her head. “I mean, good. We’ve never cleared twenty-three hundred dollars in one night, let me tell you. Which is amazing, truly. But the problem is, it’s either enough for a storage unit or enough for a storefront. Not both. Not enough for payroll, either, more than a few days. And we’re definitely going to need to store the books while looking for a new space. Most of the people in line already bought their shoes because we made sure there was a pay first, sign after deal. So there probably isn’t much more to come in.”

“Is that all? Don’t we have cash?” Rinn couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe they were going to fail after all of that.

Imogen shrugged. “A bit. We’ve got that store credit voucher from that guy who won’t leave. But honestly, most people don’t carry around cash. It’s not a significant amount, not really.”

They had failed.

Rinn found herself backing away from the crowds. Imogen said something, but Rinn didn’t really hear her. She gave an answer. It was yes—no—maybe it was a no. It didn’t matter. Rinn kept backing away. She couldn’t process her thoughts. She couldn’t sort through the idea of working so hard to come up short.