Mac had always been one of the more perceptive voices in Abby’s life, and in the days leading up to Mali’s return she could see her friend’s nerves unraveling. Sitting across from her at Salt, Mac leaned forward with quiet insistence, urging Abby to stop carrying the burden alone. “You can’t keep this from him forever,” she reminded her, her tone both gentle and firm. “Mali deserves to know the truth about what’s been happening with the shop. It might hurt, but it’ll be worse if he finds out later, from someone else.” Abby nodded silently, her eyes darting away as she twisted a napkin in her hands. She knew Mac was right, but the thought of crushing Mali’s optimism the moment he walked through the door was almost unbearable.

Before Abby could respond further, her phone buzzed. The name flashing on the screen was one she couldn’t ignore—her boyfriend calling. She stepped aside to answer, half-expecting just a casual check-in, but the words that came through the line made her heart skip. Mali, it turned out, was already on his way back to the bay. He was closer than anyone had expected, having wrapped up his commitments earlier than planned. Abby’s stomach twisted; the conversation she had been putting off was no longer something distant, it was imminent. She would have to face him far sooner than she had prepared herself for.

When Mali finally arrived at the farmhouse the following week, his presence brought with it an air of warmth and relief. He greeted Mac, Levi, and Abby with that familiar easy smile, his energy lighting up the room. There were hugs, laughter, and stories exchanged in quick succession, the kind of joyful chaos that made it momentarily possible to forget the shadows hanging over the shop. Mali seemed reinvigorated, full of life, talking about the trip back as though it had been an adventure rather than a necessity.

After their catch-up, he excused himself, lugging his bags toward his old room, eager to unpack and settle back in. Mac, watching him go, couldn’t help but notice the bounce in his step. She turned to Abby, catching the worried expression she had tried to mask. The contrast between Mali’s good spirits and Abby’s gnawing anxiety couldn’t have been clearer. Later, when they were alone, Abby finally admitted the truth: she hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell him about the business. Each time she thought about it, the words stuck in her throat. She feared that his optimism would collapse the moment he heard the shop was in ruins, and she couldn’t bear to be the one to dim that spark in his eyes.

The next morning, Mali rose early, full of energy, and joined Abby for breakfast. As they sat together, he began to notice the small tells—the way she avoided eye contact, the slight tremble in her hands as she stirred her tea, the pauses before answering simple questions. Something was wrong, and though she tried to disguise it with polite smiles, Mali knew her too well to be fooled. He leaned back in his chair, studying her carefully, his brow furrowing just slightly.

“You’re holding something back, aren’t you?” he finally asked, his voice steady but tinged with concern. Abby froze, her spoon clinking against the cup as her composure threatened to shatter. She had hoped for more time, more space to figure out how to deliver the news gently. But now, faced with Mali’s earnest gaze, she realised the moment she had dreaded had arrived. The truth about the shop—and the future they had fought so hard to protect—could no longer be hidden.