My mom continues looking at the fancy piece of paper. “Liliana…” “No,” I immediately say. Her gaze darts back to the paper. “I think we should sign the NDA.” “What?” I screech. “Are you joking?” “We could split the money—” “I don’t want anything to do with it.” “But you can use your half to open the Pressed Petal somewhere else in town.” I’m upset she would even suggest such an idea, seeing as I rejected Julian’s, Dahlia’s, and Rafa’s offers to loan me money. I shake my head. “Absolutely not.” “Why not? I’m getting closer to retirement, and then you’d be free to chase your own dream.” Angry
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