Chapter 2

“There you are!” Mom stepped directly in front of me, blocking the red mark on my face. “Was the drive awful? Madison, we’ve got your room all ready.”

Carter glanced at my suitcase, then at Dad’s hand, which was still half raised. His expression didn’t change.

“What’s her problem now?”

“Just one of her moods,” Mom said lightly. “Take Madison upstairs before she freezes.”

Madison looked over Mom’s shoulder and saw my face. She knew exactly what had happened, but she only tugged her scarf higher.

“Grayhaven winters are brutal,” she said.

Carter slid an arm around her waist and guided her toward the stairs. As he passed me, he lowered his voice. “Don’t start anything tonight. Mr. Blake is coming tomorrow, and he’s thinking about putting me in charge of purchasing for the new resort.”

So that was why my room had suddenly become a five-star suite.

Madison’s father owned the largest development company on the coast. One nod from him would land Carter and Dad’s building-supply store a contract they could brag about for years.

I said nothing.

Mom waited until the bedroom door clicked shut upstairs. Then she jabbed a finger into my shoulder. “You heard him. This isn’t the time to make everything about you. Take your stuff downstairs before Madison sees those trash bags in the morning.”

I looked at her and felt something inside me go still.

They had always been good at shrinking my needs until they sounded petty.

When I was seven, my rescue inhaler ran out. Mom said a new one cost too much and told me I wouldn’t wheeze if I stopped running around. The next day, she bought Carter a full set of hockey pads.

At thirteen, I spent ten minutes frozen in the feminine-care aisle of the grocery store because I had no idea what to buy. Mom threw the cheapest package into the cart and told me not to broadcast my business to the entire county.

After that, I stopped asking.

I washed glasses at the harbor restaurant, walked neighbors’ dogs, and shoveled driveways after blizzards. From fifteen to eighteen, I saved every five- and ten-dollar bill I could get my hands on. I bought clothes that actually fit, replaced the mattress that squealed every time I breathed, and installed a lock on my bedroom door.

When Dad saw the finished room, he patted my shoulder for the first time in years. “Now this looks like a Cross kid’s room.”

Like an idiot, I’d mistaken that for pride.

That afternoon, I’d gone into his office looking for the homeowners insurance policy. I wanted to check whether the things I’d bought were covered. Instead, I found a blue folder in the safe with my full name printed across the front: EVELYN MARIE CROSS.

Inside were the records for the education trust Grandma had left me. Sixty-eight thousand dollars was supposed to transfer to my account on my eighteenth birthday.

The balance on the most recent statement was $412.

Every withdrawal carried Dad’s signature as trustee.

Carter’s truck down payment: $16,000.

Kitchen renovation: $21,000.

Engagement-party deposit at the Lakeside Hotel: $12,000.

The rest had gone to the store’s debts, Vanessa’s credit cards, and Mom’s brand-new veneers.

Not one dollar had been spent on me.

They had used Grandma’s money to build themselves a better life, then looked me in the eye and said college was out of reach.

The real kicker was that North Shore University had already offered me a scholarship. Yet when I checked my admissions portal, my housing status read [ON-CAMPUS HOUSING DECLINED—SUBMITTED THREE DAYS AGO].

I had never clicked that button.

Only one person knew my email password. Mom insisted none of her children were allowed to keep secrets from family.

I looked past her at the closed bedroom door upstairs.

They’d already decided I wasn’t going anywhere.

Their plan was to keep me in Grayhaven, working the front desk at the family store for free while my college place, my trust, and my chance to leave were all handed to Carter.

Mom shoved my shoulder again. “Did you hear me? Go to the basement.”

I bent down and gripped my suitcase handle.

“No. I’m taking back my room, and then I’m taking back every dollar you stole.”