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“Excellent choice,” I say.

My voice wavers, but I steady it.

“We’ll make a note of that, and look forward to hearing from you.”

“Thank you.”

“Goodbye, Soul Girl.”

Her breath catches.

“Goodbye.”

I end the call.

Bryce’s hand remains in mine.

For several seconds, the kitchen is silent.

The Toastique Pro stands open beside our empty plates. Morning light spills across the laptop, illuminating the photograph of a wedding ballroom Alice would never choose. Not of her own free will.

We found her.

Not physically. Not yet.

But we reached her.

“She chose red and purple. I heard,” Bryce says, and there are tears in his eyes.

“She sure did,” I say and pull him close. “She chose us.”

The words come automatically. They sound like victory. But I distrust them for that very reason.

I’ve learnt my lesson, celebrating too soon and too loudly.

“For now,” I add.

Bryce looks at me, surprised.

The old version of me would already be grabbing the champagne from the fridge. Laughing about how Soul Girl had chosen her team and William Parker should prepare for defeat.

But Alice hasn’t broken the bonds yet. She’s only heard the truth. A signal isn’t a decision. Love isn’t a game you win because someone names your colour under pressure.

I close the venue page.

“What do we do now?” Bryce asks.

“We keep working.”

“On what?”

“Me and you. You and me. Our future, and Alice’s, hoping she’s here to join us.”

I move my thumb across his knuckles, and his eyes widen on mine.

“You want to wait? Just wait, and see what happens?”

“Hardly, no. I hate waiting. When I want something, I want it now. But I will wait,” I say. “I’ll wait for her. Just like you will. Because that’s the right thing to do. She is the one who controls her own road, not us. We can only offer directions.”