“I want to stop performing,” Sofia said, her voice cracking. “I just want to make something real.”

Sofia’s eyes welled up. “You’d do that?”

Mia finally smiled—a real, crooked, tired smile. “The surprise is that we’re not doing my life. We’re doing yours. Cassie said you’ve been hiding from your own birthday for years. Too afraid to ask for what you actually want.”

That was the plan, until her phone buzzed with a text from her best friend, Cassie: Check your doorstep. Your present is bigger than your future.

“Happy birthday,” Mia said softly. “You’re not living my life in Miami anymore. You’re finally starting yours.”