*Michael*

I stared at Reggie's image, my laptop casting a pale glow against the darkening room. The numbers he was screen-sharing with me were stark and unforgiving. It was the moment I had been dreading—the reckoning of dreams versus reality.

"Michael, we're bleeding cash," Reggie said, his voice a blunt instrument hammering at my resolve. "At this rate, we won't last another quarter. You're going to be hemorrhaging your personal funds just to break even."

The ...