Chapter 2

On my first night at the Judd residence, I was given the guest bedroom at the far end of the third floor. It was a spacious room, but not a single thing in it was prepared according to my preferences.

The closet was filled with light-colored shirts and casual pants, all one size too small for me. A lavender-scented diffuser sat on the bedside table.

I couldn't stand the cloying smell. I'd just unplugged it when Mom knocked and came in.

"Why did you turn it off? Colby says this scent helps you sleep best."

"I don't use essential oils."

"Just try it. You'll get used to it eventually. Colby spent the entire afternoon picking it out for you. Don't let his efforts go to waste."

I stuck the plug back into the socket.

"How much did it cost?" I asked.

Mom was startled. "We're family. Why are you asking about how much it cost?"

"If I don't, I'm afraid someone might accuse me of owing him again."

Her smile slowly faded. "Bryan, must you insist on thinking so poorly of Colby?"

I never said anything negative about Colby. But after that incident with the shirt, I just didn't want to be accused of owing him something.

Mom placed a debit card on the table. "If you need anything, go ahead and buy it for yourself. The PIN is a combination of Colby's favorite numbers."

I looked at the number she'd written on a note for me.

"Can I change the PIN to something else?"

Mom didn't expect me to ask that. "There's no reason to. We use the same PIN for all the accounts in the family. We're used to it."

"Isn't this debit card for me?"

"You're allowed to use it, but that doesn't mean everything in the family is now yours!" Mom snapped before realizing her tone was a little harsh, so she softened it. "Bryan, who cares what the PIN is? It's not like it changes how much money you get, right?"

"Yes, it doesn't," I replied.

The money wouldn't decrease. However, everything in this house and this family, from the furnishings in the room and the clothes to the PIN for the debit card, had nothing to do with me.

Mom finally lost her patience.

"Your dad and I earned this money. We can spend it on whichever child we want. You've only just returned to the family. What gives you the right to question our decisions?"

Nodding, I nudged the card back toward her. "You're right."

Mom froze once more. She didn't expect me to agree with her so easily.

It was their money—and their affection. They were free to give it to whomever they wanted. It wasn't my place to ask questions.

The only thing I had power over was whether I wanted to accept anything from them.

…

During breakfast the next morning, Dad showed me the breakdown of the expenses the family incurred while working for me that he instructed his accountant to compile.

The cost of hiring the private investigators, putting up the missing-person notices, and the travel expenses came to a total of 480,000 dollars.

Dad shoved his phone under my nose and said, "You wanted the numbers, right? See for yourself. We spent a huge chunk of money looking for you."

Mom glared at him. "He has only just returned to the family! Why are you showing him that?"

Yet she didn't bother taking the phone away.

I took a screenshot of the breakdown for safekeeping.

"Got it."

Macy scoffed. "Don't act like you're seriously going to pay us back. The only money you have is your scholarship allowance from the school. It's going to take you forever to return the money."

"I'll pay it off eventually."

"Stop pretending to be so righteous about it. Mom and Dad aren't asking you for money. They just don't want you to come into our house and start bullying Colby."

Colby tugged on her arm gently. "Stop, Macy. Bryan grew up in an orphanage. Maybe no one taught him that being a family means you don't have to be so calculative about everything."

I looked at him. "Were you taught that?"

"Of course."

"Then, why did you say I owed you for your shirt yesterday?"

Colby paled.

Macy was just about to lash out at me once more when my phone rang. It was a call from Professor Otis Lakewood of Northshore University.

During my undergraduate years, I'd spent two years working on algorithmic modeling with Professor Lakewood's research team.

Last month, he'd asked whether I wanted to join the doctoral program at Northshore University. I'd be able to jump straight into a PhD program without having to do a master's degree.

"Bryan, your dorm and scholarship have both been approved. If you come, you won't have to worry about your tuition. You'll receive a stipend that will be enough to cover your daily expenses," Professor Lakewood said.

I looked at the 480,000-dollar expense record still showing on the phone.

"Will I be able to join the research team right after graduation?" I asked.

"Of course, and the project bonuses are paid separately."

"I'll think about it."

After I ended the call, Dad asked me who it was.

"A professor I'm acquainted with."

"You're about to graduate, aren't you? Why is your professor looking for you?"

"He wants me to further my studies in Northshore," I replied.

Mom frowned immediately. "You only just got back! Are you thinking about leaving again? Anyone who didn't know better would assume we couldn't stand having you around."

Macy also chimed in, "Colby gave up an admissions offer to a college abroad just to stay home with Mom and Dad. Meanwhile, look at you. You've barely spent a night in the house, and you're already thinking about running off to a different city."

Colby lowered his head. "Bryan's different from me. He's talented, so of course he doesn't need to stay home."

He made a show of putting in a good word for me, but no one else at the table spoke. I didn't bother explaining myself either.

…

That night, I stayed up late running the calculations. Throughout my four years of college, I managed to save up some of the prize money I got from competitions and the various stipends I received. I had about 310,000 dollars in total.

That meant I was 170,000 dollars short.

Northshore was far away, but at least every cent I received in that city came with a clear reason why it was given to me.