It started with a dream—a simple, stupid showerhead that could scrub your back like a car wash. We called it the Shower Buddy. Nick handled the business side, Kurt had the idea, and I was just along for the ride, trying to escape Dr. Julia Harris’s office without getting caught stealing nitrous oxide.

We got the loan. We built the inventory. And then Bert Hanson ghosted us—no contract, no deal, just a smirk and a plan to steal it all.

Now we’re in the warehouse, hiding in the dark, watching Rex Hanson sleep in his own closet. The gas canister is ready. This is it. We kidnap him, get the ransom, pay back the bank.

But then Dale fumbles. The gas sprays. We all go down.

When we wake up, Rex is in our trunk. Grinning.

'I already sent the ransom note,' he says. 'But I upped it to five million.'

My heart drops. 'You’re insane.'

'And you’re in this with me,' he says. 'Or I call the cops and say you tried to kill me.'

Nick looks at me. Kurt stares at the floor.

This isn’t our plan anymore. But we don’t have a choice.