The bell above the entrance of The Grind & Bean chimed, but the usual warm scent of roasted coffee and cinnamon did nothing to ease the knot tightening in Angel's chest.
In the large corner booth, the entire group was already gathered. Nathan was spinning a salt shaker on the wooden table, Luke was leaning back with his arms behind his head, and Miley was staring at the front door like a hawk.
The moment Angel and Max walked in, Miley stood up so fast her chair scraped loudly against the floor.
"Finally," Molly exhaled, crossing her arms. "Do you have any idea how much stress you caused today? Angel, you ignored six of my...." She stopped.
Max didn't make a smug joke. He didn't even slide into his usual spot with his signature smirk. He just slid into the booth next to Luke, his hands shoved deep into his hoodie pockets, unusually quiet. Angel sat down beside Miley, keeping her eyes fixed on her cold iced latte.
Calvin leaned forward, his dark eyes searching Angel's face. The usual lighthearted spark between them was completely missing. "Angel... what happened? Is everyone okay?"
Miley sat down slowly, her eyes darting between the siblings. "You two look like you just came from a funeral."
Angel swallowed hard, her fingers tracing the condensation on her glass. She looked at Max, waiting for him to take the lead to carry the room like he always did. But Max just stared at the wooden table, his jaw clenched tighter than usual.
"It's not a funeral," Max said, his voice flat and quiet.
"Okay..." Nathan chuckled nervously, looking around the table. "Then why is everyone acting like someone died? Did you guys crash the car again?"
"We're moving," Angel said softly.
The corner booth went dead quiet.
Luke stopped balancing his chair, letting it drop back onto four legs with a thud. Fred paused with a pastry halfway to his mouth.
Miley blinked, a small, forced laugh escaping her lips. "What? Like... moving houses? Did your parents buy another estate in the Hamptons?"
Angel finally looked up, her green eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "No, Miley. London."
"London?" Molly repeated, her voice dropping an octave. "Like... England?"
"The global headquarters," Max added, his tone defensive only because it was the only way to hide how much it hurt. "My dad needs to oversee the European expansion directly. We're leaving."
"When?" Calvin asked.
The single word cut through the room like a blade. Calvin wasn't looking at Max. He was looking directly at Angel, his knuckles white against the edge of the table.
"End of the month," Angel whispered.
"End of the month?!" Luke stood up slightly, gesturing wildly. "That's literally three weeks away! You can't just...you can't just pull up roots and leave! What about school? What about football, Max? What about... us?"
"You think we chose this?!" Max snapped, his composure finally slipping for a brief second before he caught himself. He took a heavy breath, running a hand through his hair. "Look. We tried. It's done. The papers are signed, the house in London is prepped. It's happening.
Miley didn't scream. She didn't throw a fit. She just reached under the table and grabbed Angel's hand, squeezing it so hard her knuckles turned white. Angel leaned her head on Miley's shoulder, letting out a shaky breath she had been holding all day.
"This is ridiculous," Molly muttered, tears actually welling up in her eyes despite her usual dramatic nature. "Who am I supposed to yell at when the boys are being stupid?"
"You still have us," Fred offered weakly, though even he looked entirely crushed.
"It's not the same," Calvin said quietly. He kept his eyes on Angel, a heavy, unspoken sorrow settling between them. All the subtle moments, the lingering glances, the unspoken what-ifs they all just got an expiration date.
Silence settled over the table again, but this time it wasn't the silence of confusion. It was the heavy, suffocating weight of reality.
Miley wiped a single stray tear from her cheek and pulled back to look Angel dead in the eye.
"Three weeks," Miley said, her voice shaking but firm. "We have three weeks."
Angel blinked. "Miley..."
"No," Miley interrupted, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "If you're leaving New York, you're not spending your last twenty-one days sulking in that mansion. We are going to every party, we're doing every single thing on our list, and we are making these three weeks count. Got it?"
Nathan slowly nodded, a sad, forced smile appearing on his face. "Yeah. We'll throw you the biggest send-off this city has ever seen."
Max looked across the table at his friends, a faint, genuine smile finally breaking through his guarded expression. "Deal."
Angel looked around at the faces of the people who had been her anchor for years. For the first time all day, the cold dread in her stomach softened just a little.
She still didn't know what waited for her in London the strange dreams, the clock tower, or the cold-touch boy in the library but sitting in that booth, surrounded by her friends, she knew she had to survive the goodbye first.