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Vanessa smiled sadly. “I can’t really say,” she murmured. “It’s not my place. Just know that everything Frankie does, she does it from a good place. She wants everyone around her to be happy, and sometimes she forgets that burdens are best dealt with when they’re shared.”

I nodded, wondering if Vanessa meant for me to take her words to heart.

I tried not to think about it for too long either.

“So these talent shows,” I prompted, wanting to hear more about Frankie’s childhood. “How long did she do them for?”

“Every day for almost three months.” Vanessa chuckled. “She was so dedicated to the cause. Before she really understood that the store had been opened for her, she was convinced that her talent shows would bring people in from all over the country.”

“And? How did she do?”

Vanessa smiled softly. “Most of the suppliers we work with right now are contracted to us thanks to Frankie’s little talent shows.”

And that, somehow, didn’t surprise me.

Chapter twenty-nine

A Close Call

Frankie

Isprinteddownthepacked sidewalk, dodging the other passers-by to keep from colliding with them. Even though it was relatively early there was little to no room on the sidewalk for headlong sprints, so I relented.

But with just a few hours’ sleep in my back pocket I’d missed my alarm, meaning I was late.

Very late.

I shot past a convenience store but quickly circled back, the aching grumble in my stomach too painful to ignore any longer. As fast as I could, I snatched my favorite brand of granola bars off the shelf, paid for it, and high-tailed it to my parents’ store before it opened.

With my packed schedule, I could barely remember to eat every ten hours.

I’d gotten home well after ten last night, my feet as heavy as lead as I shuffled into my apartment. I’d only had enough energy to wash the day’s grime from my skin before collapsing into bed.

I’d missed breakfast again thanks to my butchered sleep schedule.

I shook the thought from my mind, focusing on the list of things I had to get done before the store opened.

By the time I arrived, the blaring horns of cabs filled the street but the store was still locked. Somehow, I’d made it in before anyone else and I was grateful for that small mercy as I tore open my granola bar and wolfed it down.

I tossed the wrapper into the trash can behind the cashier’s till and dusted my hands off, ready to go about prepping the store.

I’d grabbed a broom from the supply closet when the door chimed, and suddenly, my throat began to close. I cleared my throat, setting the broom aside and rushing to the trash can behind the cashier.

Because this felt all too familiar.

I fished the wrapper out and smoothed it flat, my heart sinking. Nuts.

“Frankie?”

My head snapped up to Hayden, my voice trapped in my swelling throat.

I needed to get to the ER. Fast.

“Hey, what’s going on?” she asked, close enough to see the panic on my face. Her gaze dropped to my lips. “Fuck, what did you eat?”

I handed her the crumpled up wrapper, the floor swaying dangerously under my feet, and she took it from me, her hand replacing the wrapper.

“Okay, you’re gonna be fine,” she said calmly, her hand locking around my waist to keep me upright. My lips were already tingling. “I’m taking you to the ER.”