Several weeks down the line, the weight of the shop’s troubles had only grown heavier. Despite all the long hours, the careful planning, and the quiet determination Lacey and Abigail had shown, the situation refused to improve. Each passing day brought with it another reminder of just how fragile the business had become—unpaid invoices from suppliers stacked up, utility bills slipped into red-letter warnings, and the once-steady stream of customers began to slow to a frustrating trickle. What had started as an optimistic effort to hold the fort until Mali’s return was gradually becoming a draining battle against inevitability.

It was during this period of constant strain that Lacey received news that shook her. She learned that Theo, who had been such a vital presence at the board shop, had recently turned down the opportunity to return to his old job at the garage. For many, the garage represented stability—regular hours, dependable pay, and the kind of security that the shop could no longer guarantee. Yet Theo had refused, explaining that his heart was tied to the shop, to the boards, and to the community that had grown around it. His loyalty touched Lacey, but at the same time, it filled her with a gnawing sense of guilt.

She understood better than anyone that, while the shop had a variety of offerings, it was the surfing lessons—run almost single-handedly by Theo—that had become the lifeline of the business. Customers came not only for the boards but also for the experience, the chance to learn and to belong. Letting Theo stay meant clinging to that source of income, fragile though it was. Yet Lacey could see the toll it was taking on him. His energy, once bright and boundless, was dimming under the pressure of trying to keep afloat a shop that seemed intent on sinking.

Late one evening, after going through yet another discouraging balance sheet, Lacey found herself making an agonising choice. Turning to Abigail, she confessed what she had come to believe: as much as they needed Theo, they could not, in good conscience, hold him back from pursuing what he truly wanted. She argued that if his passion lay with the garage, or with a different path entirely, then they had no right to tie him down simply because they were desperate. To her, it was an act of kindness, of respect—setting him free even though it might hasten the shop’s collapse.

Abigail hesitated, knowing all too well what this decision meant. She reminded Lacey that, without Theo, they would lose their biggest draw. Surfing lessons had kept them afloat longer than anything else, and customers booked weeks in advance. Letting him go wasn’t just giving up an employee; it was surrendering the single reliable revenue stream they had left. But Lacey stood firm, gently urging Abi to agree, explaining that Theo deserved the chance to choose his own future without the burden of their failing business chaining him down.

And so, with heavy hearts, they let him go. Almost immediately, the consequences of their decision came crashing down around them. Dozens of customers who had prepaid for lessons began to demand refunds, frustrated that the service they had looked forward to was suddenly unavailable. Phones rang constantly with complaints, and emails flooded in asking for explanations. What little hope had been keeping the shop alive seemed to vanish overnight.

Now, with the main source of income gone and the pressure mounting from all sides, Abi found herself spiralling into a state of worry. She spent restless nights turning over the accounts again and again, searching for any possible way to balance the numbers. Each failed attempt left her more anxious, more uncertain. For every small idea she scribbled down—a new promotion, a discounted stock sale—there was an overwhelming reality staring her in the face: without Mali, without Theo, and without a miracle, the shop was heading towards ruin.

Abigail tried to keep her composure in front of Lacey, but the cracks were beginning to show. Friends noticed how quiet she had become, how often she drifted off in conversation, her mind clearly elsewhere. She fretted constantly about angry customers, refund deadlines, and the mounting debt that seemed to grow larger with every sunrise. Though she had promised Lacey she would stand strong, the enormity of the challenge was beginning to overwhelm her.

What had once been a hopeful partnership now felt like a fragile lifeline, stretched thin and fraying fast. And in the background, the absence of Mali loomed larger than ever, his return the only thing either of them dared hope might still turn the tide.