What would you do if you saw a stranger about to make the biggest mistake of their life? Would you stay silent? Mind your own business? That’s what most people would do, but not her. A barista with a painful past did something that saved a man’s entire company. And in doing so, she saved herself.

 A man sitting alone in a coffee shop in downtown Chicago. His name is Daniel Rivers and he’s about to make the biggest mistake of his life. In front of him are papers, legal documents, the kind that end everything you’ve ever worked for. The kind that say I give up.

 Daniel isn’t just any man. For 28 years, he built something from nothing. Started with a small construction company, just him and two workers. Now, Rivers Construction employed 300 families. They built schools, hospitals, community centers, real things, places where life happened. But today, all of that was ending. The paper said bankruptcy. Chapter 7.

 Total liquidation. Everything sold off to pay the debts. The company, the contracts, the dreams, all of it gone. It was 7:53 in the morning. His lawyer would walk through that door at 8:00. 7 minutes. That’s all he had left before his signature made it official. Before Daniel Rivers became the man who lost everything, his hand reached for the pen. A simple black pen, nothing fancy, but his fingers were shaking.

 Not from fear. He was past fear. This was something deeper. His body knew what his mind was trying to ignore. That signing these papers felt like dying while still breathing. The coffee shop was quiet, too quiet. A few early morning customers tapped on laptops, lost in their own worlds. Steam rose from coffee cups.

Somewhere, a radio played soft jazz. Normal people having normal mornings while Daniel’s world was collapsing. He’d been coming to this coffee shop for 15 years. Same corner booth, same black coffee, no sugar. This place had seen him celebrate his first million-doll contract, seen him plan building projects on napkins, seen him grow from a young man with calloused hands and big dreams into someone people called Sir.

Now it was witnessing his end. Daniel picked up the pen again. His eyes burned. When was the last time he slept? Really slept. Not just that restless half awake state where your mind keeps calculating losses, adding up failures, replaying every mistake. 3 weeks, a month. His wife Jennifer had left two months ago. Took their daughter Amy with her. Said she couldn’t watch him drown anymore.

 Said he chose the company over his family. Maybe she was right. He’d missed Amy’s last three birthdays because of emergency meetings. Missed anniversaries. Missed the thousand small moments that make a life worth living. His phone sat silent on the table. No calls from Jennifer. No texts from Amy. His board members had all resigned last month.

 His bank had frozen his lines of credit. His competitors were already circling, ready to pick apart his contracts like vultures. Everyone said it was over. His accountant said it. His lawyer said it. The numbers said it loud and clear. Daniel Rivers was finished. So why couldn’t he sign his hand moved toward the paper again.

 This time it made it all the way to the signature line. The pen touched the page. Just write your name, he thought. End this. Let it be over. Excuse me. The voice came from his left. soft, almost apologetic. Daniel didn’t look up. I’m busy, he said, though he wasn’t. He was just sitting there frozen, trapped between the man he used to be and whoever he was about to become.

 I know, and I’m really sorry to bother you. The voice came closer, but I think you’re making a mistake. That made him look up. She was young, maybe 30, wearing the coffee shop’s brown apron with a name tag that said Rachel. She had kind eyes and flower dust on her cheek, probably from the pastries they baked in the back.

 She held a coffee pot in one hand, but she wasn’t offering refills. She was looking at his papers. Excuse me. Daniel’s voice came out harder than he meant. The voice of a man who’d been knocked down so many times that kindness felt like another setup for pain. Rachel didn’t step back.

 She set the coffee pot down on his table right next to the papers. Those documents, I saw them earlier when I was wiping tables. I wasn’t trying to snoop, I promise. But the numbers, they don’t look right. Daniel almost laughed. Would have laughed if he had any laughter left in him. You’re a barista. I am, Rachel said simply. No shame in it, just fact.

 But I used to work in finance before, she stopped. Something passed across her face. Something heavy and sad. Then she straightened her shoulders. before life happened. Can I look just for a minute? He should have said no. Should have told her to mind her own business. Go back to making lattes and toasting bagels. This was his failure.

 His private disaster, not a show for strangers who felt sorry for him, but something in her voice stopped him. That quiet certainty, that look in her eyes that said she wasn’t asking out of pity. She was asking because she actually thought she could help. And God help him. Daniel was desperate enough to let her try.

 You have 5 minutes, he said, sliding the papers across the table. Then my lawyer gets here and this becomes real. Rachel sat down in the booth across from him. She pulled the papers close and her eyes started moving fast, scanning columns of numbers and legal terms that had taken Daniel’s lawyers months to prepare.

 He watched her face, looking for the moment she’d realized she was in over her head, waiting for the embarrassed smile, the apology, the quick exit. But Rachel’s expression changed. Her eyes narrowed. Her finger stopped on something near the middle of the third page. “Wait,” she said. “This doesn’t make sense.

” And just like that, with 2 minutes left before everything ended, Daniel Rivers felt the first flicker of something he thought was dead forever. “Hope.” Rachel’s finger moved down the page like she was reading a story only she could see. Daniel watched her, his heart beating faster now, beating like it remembered how to want something again. this property assessment,” Rachel said, tapping the document.

 “Your warehouse complex on the south side. They’ve listed it twice. Once here under commercial real estate, and again here under business assets. That’s the same property, but they’re counting it as two separate debts.” Daniel leaned forward. The coffee shop noise faded away. All he could hear was her voice and the blood rushing in his ears. What? Look.

 Rachel turned the paper so he could see. The address is the same. warehouse 12, Industrial Park Drive. But in this column, they’re saying you owe 2.8 million on it. And in this column, they’re saying you owe another 2.8 million. That’s the same mortgage counted twice. That’s 2.8 million in debt that doesn’t actually exist.

Daniel’s mind was racing now, pulling up details he’d been too exhausted to think about. Clearly, the warehouse. He bought it 8 years ago, split it into rental units for small businesses. The loan had been restructured three years back when he expanded. Two different banks, two different payment schedules, but one property.

 His lawyers had pulled documents from a dozen different sources. Nobody had cross-cheed. Nobody had noticed they were double counting. That’s not all, Rachel said. She was flipping pages now, her movements quick and certain, not hesitant anymore. This was someone who knew what they were doing. Your revenue projections for this year. They’re using last year’s numbers.

But didn’t you just win that contract to build the new community college in Evston? Daniel felt his chest tighten. We did. Signed it six weeks ago. $15 million project. Then these projections are completely wrong.

 Rachel said, “They’re saying your company will bring in 20 million this year, but with the college contract, it should be at least 35 million. That changes everything about whether you can pay your debts.” She kept reading. Daniel watched her face, and something was happening inside him. something breaking open. Not breaking apart, breaking open like ice cracking in spring. And this Rachel pointed to another section.

 This equipment loan. It says you still owe400,000 on your construction vehicles and machinery. But didn’t you finish paying that off? We did, Daniel said, his voice getting stronger. 8 months ago, my CFO Thomas, he left the company right after. Nobody updated the records. Rachel looked up from the papers.

 Her eyes met his. And for the first time all morning, Daniel felt like someone was actually seeing him. Not his failures, not his losses, just him. A man trying to figure out if he should keep fighting or let go. If these numbers are wrong, Rachel said carefully. Then your whole situation is different. You might not need bankruptcy at all.

 You might just need to reorganize. Maybe negotiate with your creditors, restructure some payments. But bankruptcy? That feels like you’re burning down a house that just needs repairs. The words hit Daniel like a wave. Not bankruptcy. Not the end, just repairs. Who are you? He asked. It came out like an accusation, but he meant it like a prayer. Rachel looked down at her hands.

 Hands that should have been holding calculators instead of coffee pots. Someone who made a mistake with numbers once. Lost everything because of it. I don’t want to watch someone else lose everything if maybe they don’t have to. Before Daniel could respond, the coffee shop door opened.

 His lawyer, Robert Brennan, walked in carrying his briefcase and wearing the same grim expression he’d had for weeks. Behind him was someone Daniel hadn’t expected to see. Jennifer, his wife, ex-wife, he didn’t even know anymore. She was dressed all in black, like she was going to a funeral. In a way, she was “Daniel,” Robert said, his voice professional and careful. “It’s time.” Jennifer didn’t say anything.

 She just stood there, arms crossed, looking at him with eyes that used to light up when he walked in a room. Now they looked at him like he was already gone, like she’d already buried him and moved on. Daniel glanced at Rachel. She was gathering the papers together, her movements quick, like she was trying to disappear. “Wait,” Daniel said.

 He stood up and for the first time in months he felt his spine straighten. Felt himself stand at his full height. Robert, I need you to check these documents again. There are errors, big ones, Robert frowned. Daniel, we’ve reviewed everything multiple times. It’s thorough. Then we need to review it again.

 Daniel said his voice wasn’t the voice of a defeated man anymore. It was the voice of the guy who’d built a company from nothing. The voice of someone who knew how to fight. There are duplicate entries, outdated numbers, missing information. I’m not signing anything until every single number is verified. Jennifer made a sound of disgust. This is pathetic.

 Daniel, you’re stalling. Just sign the papers and let everyone move on with their lives. But Daniel wasn’t looking at her anymore. He was looking at Rachel, who had stood up from the booth and was backing away like she’d done what she came to do and didn’t want to intrude further. Thank you, Daniel said to her.

 Rachel nodded once, then started walking toward the back of the coffee shop. Wait, miss, Robert called out. What’s your name? Rachel, she said quietly. Robert looked at Daniel, then at the papers on the table, then back at Rachel. Did you find these errors? She hesitated, then nodded. Robert Brennan was a smart man. He’d been practicing law for 30 years.

 He walked over to the table and picked up the documents, his eyes scanning the pages Rachel had marked. His expression changed. Just slightly, but enough. Where did you work before? Robert asked Rachel. Keller Financial Group, Rachel said. I was a financial analyst for 4 years before she stopped.

 That shadow crossed her face again before I made a mistake that cost them a major client. I was fired. Haven’t been able to get hired in finance since. Robert studied her for a long moment. Then he looked at Daniel. “She’s right,” Robert said quietly. “These numbers need to be rechecked. If what she’s showing me is accurate, this entire filing might be wrong.

” Jennifer made a sound like someone had slapped her. You cannot be serious. You’re listening to a barista instead of your own lawyers. “I’m listening to someone who actually looked at the numbers.” Daniel shot back. He felt anger rising in him now. Not the hopeless, turned inward anger he’d been carrying for months. This was different. This was fire.

 I’m listening to someone who cared enough to speak up when everyone else just kept telling me to give up. Robert, Daniel continued, turning to his lawyer. I want every single document audited today, every number checked, every calculation verified. I want to know the truth. Robert nodded slowly. I’ll make the calls.

 But Daniel, if this doesn’t lead anywhere. If it doesn’t lead anywhere, I’ll sign the papers this afternoon, Daniel said. But I’m not signing them now. Not until I know for certain. Jennifer grabbed her purse. Her face was red, angry, humiliated. You’re delusional, both of you. She headed for the door, then turned back.

 When this falls apart, Daniel, don’t call me. Don’t come to the house. We’re done. We were done a long time ago. I just finally accepted it. She left. The door swung shut behind her with a small bell chime that sounded too cheerful for what had just happened. The coffee shop went quiet.

 Other customers were trying not to stare, but Daniel could feel their eyes. The man having a breakdown in the corner booth. Entertainment with their morning coffee. Robert gathered up the documents and promised to have answers by noon. Then he left too, disappearing into the Chicago morning with a briefcase full of Daniel’s life. And then it was just Daniel and Rachel again.

 I don’t know how to thank you,” Daniel said. His voice cracked a little. He was exhausted, so tired he could barely stand. But underneath the exhaustion was something else. Something that felt dangerously like hope. Rachel shook her head. “Don’t thank me yet. I might be wrong. You’re not wrong,” Daniel said. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he did.

 Deep in his bones, he knew. Why did you help me? Rachel looked down at her hands. The hands holding the coffee pot. the hands that used to hold financial reports and calculators because someone should have checked my work before I submitted it. Someone should have caught my mistake before it ruined everything. Nobody did.

 So, I guess I wanted to be that person for someone else. Daniel felt something in his chest crack wide open. What was your mistake? Rachel smiled, but there was no happiness in it. I trusted the wrong person with the right numbers. My boss at Keller Financial, he was running his own side deals, using client money for personal investments.

 He had me input numbers into reports, told me they were legitimate transactions. I believed him because he was my supervisor. Why wouldn’t I? She took a breath. The coffee shop was filling up now. Morning rush. People ordering lattes and breakfast sandwiches, completely unaware that something important was happening in the corner booth.

 When the clients found out their money was missing, my boss blamed me. Rachel continued, said I made the errors, that I was incompetent, that I’d falsified the reports. I tried to fight it, tried to prove what really happened. But I was 27 and he was a senior partner. Guess whose story everyone believed? They fired you, Daniel said.

 They fired me, Rachel confirmed. And then they made sure no other financial firm would hire me. Blacklisted me across the industry. Suddenly, every application I sent out got rejected. Every interview went nowhere. So, I took the first job I could find that would pay rent. Been making coffee and serving pastries for 3 years now.

 Daniel felt anger again, but not for himself this time. For her, for this woman who’d lost everything because someone else’s corruption and then got brave enough to help a stranger anyway. That’s not right, he said. Rachel shrugged. Maybe not, but it’s what happened. And honestly, I’d made peace with it. Thought maybe I wasn’t cut out for that world anyway.

 Maybe I wasn’t smart enough or strong enough or whatever it takes to survive in a place like that. You caught errors that multiple lawyers missed. Daniel said, “You looked at documents for 5 minutes and found mistakes that could have destroyed my company. That’s not someone who isn’t smart enough. That’s someone who’s brilliant.

” Rachel’s eyes got shiny. She blinked fast, pushing the tears back. I should get back to work. Morning rush is starting. Rachel, Daniel said. She stopped walking. If this works out, if you’re right about those numbers, I’m going to need help rebuilding. I’m going to need someone I can trust. Someone who actually pays attention.

 Someone brave enough to tell me when something’s wrong. I make coffee now, Rachel said softly. That’s all I do. That’s not all you do, Daniel said. And I think you know that. Rachel stood there for a long moment. Around them, the coffee shop hummed with life. Someone laughed at a nearby table. The espresso machine hissed. The radio played a song about second chances.

 Then Rachel walked away, back behind the counter, back to her coffee pots and pastries and the life she built from the ruins of her old one. Daniel sat back down in the booth. The pen was still there on the table waiting, but he didn’t pick it up.

 Instead, he pulled out his phone and started making calls to his accountant, to the board members who’d resigned, to anyone who might be able to verify what Rachel had found. Because for the first time in months, Daniel Rivers had something he thought he’d lost forever. He had a reason to fight. He had hope. And he had 3 hours until noon.

 Three hours to find out if Rachel had saved his life or if this was just one last cruel moment of possibility before everything ended. anyway. But either way, he was going to fight because someone had cared enough to give him a reason to. And that changed everything. By 11:30, the back room of the coffee shop had turned into something nobody expected.

 The owner, an older woman named Betty, who’d run the place for 20 years, had offered her office when she saw what was happening. Now, that small office was packed with people. Robert Brennan. Two financial auditors Robert had called in emergency consultants. Thomas Chin, Daniel’s former CFO, who’d agreed to come back for one day to review the files, and Rachel, who Betty had pulled from the counter despite the lunch rush starting. Rachel had changed out of her apron.

 She was wearing simple black pants and a blue sweater, probably the nicest work clothes she owned. She looked uncomfortable surrounded by all these people in expensive suits. But when Robert asked her to explain her findings, her voice was steady and clear.

 The Southside warehouse properties were listed twice because they fall under two different legal entities that share ownership, Rachel said, pointing to the documents spread across Betty’s desk. But the bankruptcy filing treated them as completely separate assets with separate mortgages. In reality, the debt is shared and should only be counted once. That’s 2.8 million in duplicate debt that doesn’t actually exist.

 One of the auditors, a woman named Catherine with sharp eyes and silver hair, leaned forward. That’s a major oversight. How did this slip through multiple reviews? Robert looked uncomfortable. The paperwork came from three different law firms handling various parts of Daniel’s business. Nobody cross-referenced between the entities.

 Someone should have, Catherine said flatly. She turned to Rachel. What else? Rachel walked them through everything she’d found. Seven errors total, some small, some huge. Revenue projections using outdated information. Asset values that didn’t account for recent appraisals. That equipment loan that was marked as outstanding even though it had been paid off 8 months ago.

 And the big one, the community college contract that would bring in 15 million but wasn’t included anywhere in the financial assessment. By the time Rachel finished, the room was silent. The kind of silence that feels heavy, like the air before a thunderstorm. Catherine closed her laptop. She looked at Robert. These documents aren’t just wrong. They’re dangerously wrong.

 If Daniel had signed this morning, he would have declared bankruptcy while his company was actually viable. That would have triggered immediate asset seizures, destroyed his credit, and created legal problems that would take years to untangle, maybe forever. Daniel felt his stomach drop. He’d been 7 minutes away from destroying himself.

 7 minutes from making a mistake he could never fix. So what happens now? He asked. His voice came out quieter than he meant. Catherine stood up. Now you withdraw the bankruptcy filing. You restructure your debt properly. You negotiate with your creditors based on accurate numbers.

 And frankly, you should consider legal action against whoever prepared these documents. This is malpractice. Robert Winst. That would be my firm. Then I suggest you make this right, Catherine said. She shook Daniels hand, nodded to Rachel, and left without another word. The room slowly emptied. Thomas gathered his things, promising to send updated financial projections by tomorrow.

 The other auditor left with file copies, saying he’d prepare a full report by the end of the week. Soon, it was just Daniel, Robert, and Rachel. Robert looked like he’d aged 10 years in the past 4 hours. I’m sorry, Daniel. This should never have happened. I trusted my associates to do their jobs properly. They failed. I failed you. Daniel should have been angry.

 Part of him was, but mostly he just felt tired and relieved and grateful and terrified all at once. Get me a new plan. An accurate one this time. I want it by Friday. Robert nodded. Before he left, he turned to Rachel. If you ever want to get back into finance, call me. I could use someone on my team who actually reads what they’re reviewing.

 Rachel gave him a small smile but didn’t say anything. Robert left and then it was just the two of them in Betty’s little office with its coffee stained desk and posters about employee benefits. You saved my life today, Daniel said. Rachel shook her head. I just read some paperwork. You did more than that, Daniel said. He sat down heavily in Betty’s office chair.

 The adrenaline that had been carrying him through the morning was fading, and exhaustion was creeping back in like fog. You gave me a reason to fight when I’d already given up. Do you know how rare that is? Do you know how precious? Rachel sat down in the other chair. She looked different now. Professional, capable, like she belonged in a boardroom more than behind a coffee counter. Why did you give up? She asked.

 From what I saw in those documents, your company was struggling, but it wasn’t dying. People don’t usually file for bankruptcy when there’s still hope. Daniel laughed, but there was no humor in it because everyone told me it was over. My lawyers, my accountants, my board, my wife. After a while, you start to believe them.

 You start to think maybe they see something you don’t. Maybe you’re the only one too stubborn or too stupid to accept reality. Or maybe they were all too close to see clearly, Rachel said. Sometimes it takes someone from the outside to notice what everyone else missed. Is that what happened to you? Daniel asked. Is that why you lost your job? Rachel was quiet for a long moment.

Through the door, they could hear the coffee shop noise. People ordering lunch, Betty calling out orders, the espresso machine hissing and gurgling. I was working on a major account, Rachel said finally. My boss gave me numbers to input. I trusted him because he was my supervisor.

 Why wouldn’t I? Turns out he’d been stealing from the client for months and was using me to hide it. When everything came out, he blamed me. said, “I’d made the mistakes. I was fired.” He kept his job for another 6 months before they finally caught him. Daniel felt anger rise in his chest. “Not at Rachel, for her. Did you fight it?” “I tried,” Rachel said.

 “But I was 27 and he was a senior partner. Nobody believed me.” After that, no firm would hire me. So, I took this job because I needed to pay rent and eat. And I told myself it was fine, that maybe I wasn’t meant for that world anyway. That’s not true. Daniel said. Maybe not, Rachel said. But it’s what I believed.

 The afternoon sun was streaming through Betty’s office window when Daniel finally asked the question that had been building all day. Come work for me. Rachel looked up from her hands. What? Come work for River’s Construction, Daniel said. I need someone who can review financial documents and catch problems before they become disasters. Someone I can trust to tell me the truth even when it’s hard. I think that’s you. Rachel shook her head. Mr. Rivers. Daniel, he interrupted.

Daniel, she said softly. I appreciate the offer. Really, I do, but I haven’t worked in finance in 3 years. I don’t have current certifications. I don’t have references. And honestly, I don’t know if I can do this anymore. Last time I trusted my instincts in this field. I lost everything.

 And today, your instincts saved everything. Daniel said, Rachel, I’m not asking you to be perfect. I’m asking you to do what you did this morning. Pay attention. Ask questions. Speak up when something doesn’t look right. That’s all I need. She was quiet for a long time. Daniel didn’t push. He just waited, giving her space to think.

 Can I ask you something? Rachel said finally. Anything. Why did your wife really leave? The question hit Daniel in the chest. He’d been expecting her to ask about salary or hours or job requirements. Not this. because I stopped being the person she married.

 Daniel said honestly, I got so focused on saving the company that I forgot about everything else. My marriage, my daughter, myself. Jennifer told me I was drowning and too proud to grab the life preserver she was throwing me. She was right. Do you think she’ll come back? Rachel asked. Now that things might turn around. Daniel thought about Jennifer’s face in the coffee shop that morning.

The coldness, the finality. No, he said. And maybe that’s okay. Maybe some things aren’t supposed to be saved. But the company, that’s different. That’s not just about me. It’s about the 300 families who work for me. The schools and hospitals we build. The kids who learn in buildings we constructed.

 If I let it die because I was too tired to fight, I’d never forgive myself. Rachel nodded slowly. I’m scared. She admitted. Of what? Of failing again. Of trusting my instincts and being wrong. of having everyone look at me the way they did before, like I’m incompetent, like I’m a fraud. Daniel leaned forward.

 Rachel, let me tell you what I see. I see someone who risked embarrassment to help a stranger. Someone who spoke up even though she had no reason to get involved. Someone brave enough to walk into a room full of lawyers and accountants and tell them they were all wrong. That’s not incompetent. That’s not a fraud.

 That’s someone I want on my team. Tears were running down Rachel’s face now. She didn’t wipe them away. What if I make a mistake? Then we’ll fix it together, Daniel said. That’s what teams do. Nobody works alone. Not anymore. Not after today. Rachel laughed, but it was a raal laugh this time. Not bitter. Not sad. Real. Okay, she said. Okay. Okay. I’ll try. I’ll come work for you.

 But if I mess up, you won’t, Daniel said. And if you do, we’ll figure it out. That’s what second chances are for. They walked out of Betty’s office together. The coffee shop was in full afternoon swing now. Students on laptops, business meetings, first dates, all the small moments that make up life.

 Betty was behind the counter and when she saw them, she smiled. Everything work out? Yeah, Daniel said. Yeah, I think it did. Betty looked at Rachel. You leaving me? Rachel bit her lip. I’m sorry. I know it’s terrible timing. Betty waved her hand. Don’t be silly. I’ve been watching you serve coffee for 3 years, knowing you’re meant for bigger things. Go make something of yourself and come back to visit sometimes.

 Rachel hugged Betty hard. Thank you for everything. Daniel and Rachel walked out into the Chicago afternoon. The sun was bright, the air was cold. The city was alive and moving and full of people with their own problems and dreams and second chances. “I have to call my daughter,” Daniel said suddenly. I haven’t talked to Amy in 3 weeks. I need to hear her voice.

You should, Rachel said. Family matters. Don’t forget that again. I won’t, Daniel promised. And he meant it. They stood there on the sidewalk. These two people who’d been strangers at sunrise and were something else now. Not quite friends yet. Not quite colleagues, something in between.

 Two people who’d saved each other without meaning to. Thank you, Daniel said one more time. Thank you, Rachel said back. for giving me another chance, for believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself. Daniel’s phone rang. It was Robert calling with preliminary numbers from the auditors. Good numbers.

 Numbers that meant River’s construction would survive, would rebuild, would become something even better than before. As Daniel answered the call, Rachel started walking toward the train station. But she was walking differently now. Her shoulders were back. Her head was up. She looked like someone who remembered who she used to be, who she could be again.

 And somewhere in that moment on that ordinary street in Chicago, two lives changed direction. Not because of luck, not because of fate, but because one person cared enough to speak up and another person was brave enough to listen. Sometimes that’s all it takes. Someone who sees you when you’re invisible. Someone who believes in you when you’ve stopped believing in yourself. Someone who says, “Wait, you’re making a mistake.

” when everyone else is saying just give up. That morning, Daniel Rivers thought his story was ending. Turned out it was just beginning and so was Rachel’s. Both of them getting a second chance. Both of them learning that sometimes the most important moment isn’t when you sign something.