Robin's looking at Jason like he's never seen him before. "I don't have twelve thousand dollars."
"I do." Knox steps forward. "Not as charity. As investment. I believe in the business and I want a return."
"Knox—"
"Fair terms. We'll draw up a contract. Interest rate, repayment schedule, everything above board. Ezra'll make sure I don't screw you on the numbers."
The front door opens again. Ash. He takes one look at Robin's face and stops in the doorway, leaning against the frame the way he does when he's being careful about how much space he takes up.
"It happened?" Ash asks.
"It happened," Robin says, voice cracking.
Silas appears from his corner — I didn't even know he was here, which is standard for Silas — carrying a folder. "Labor law summary for food service businesses in our state. Licensing requirements, health department checklist, employee regulations for when you're ready to hire."
Robin stares at the folder. "When did you—"
"I had time." Silas sets it on the bar. "Seemed useful."
Ezra comes downstairs, phone already in his hand. "I set up an LLC filing template. Takes twenty minutes online. And I talked to a guy about a basic website — he'll do it for three hundred, includes the menu and an online ordering setup."
Robin's looking around the bar. Toby with his spreadsheets. Knox with his investment. Jason with his equipment quotes. Silas with his legal research. Ezra with his LLC. Ash in the doorway. Me at the end of the bar.
All of us. Waiting. Not pushing — just present, the way we've been present since the beginning.
"How does everyone know about this before I've even said yes?" His voice is thick.
"Because we've been waiting for you to say yes," Ash says from the doorway. "We've been ready."
Robin puts his pencil down. Looks at his hands — the right one steady, the left one scarred and healing and gripping the edge of the bar like it's the only solid thing in the room.
"What if I fail?" he says quietly.
Nobody answers immediately. I let the silence hold. This question isn't looking for reassurance — it's looking for truth.
"Then you fail," I say. "And we're still here. And you try again, or you don't, and either way nothing about this changes." I gesture at the room. At them. At us.
"What if the food isn't good enough?"
"Robin." Jason's voice is flat with disbelief. "Your food is good enough. It's more than good enough."
"What if nobody comes?"
"The library has foot traffic six days a week," Toby says. "Story hour alone brings in thirty families on Thursdays. They already know your baking. Half of them ask me when you're opening a shop."
"What if—"
"What if you succeed?" Ash says from the doorway. His voice is quiet, steady, the voice of a man who knows something about being afraid to try. "What if you walk behind that counter and it's exactly where you're supposed to be?"
Robin's eyes are bright. He looks at me. Not for permission — for steadiness. I give him what I have, which is everything.
"Okay," he says. "Yes."
Toby makes a sound that might be a scream. Knox catches him before he knocks over a barstool. Jason pumps his fist once, hard, like he's been holding it in. Silas nods — which from Silas is basically a standing ovation.
Ash crosses the room and pulls Robin into a hug that lifts him off his feet.
"Put me down—"