Chapter 3

The photographer continued his work. When he reached the living room, a design statement mounted on the wall caught my attention.

Beneath it sat a thick portfolio. The cover read: [Symbiosis: The Ideal Living Space for Four Lifelong Friends.]

I opened the first page.

Inside was Alec's submission for a national young interior designers competition. The project description read, [Four friends who have known each other for 20 years set out to create a permanent living space built on friendship and shared dreams.]

The property owner's name had been blurred out. The commissioned designers were listed as Alec Devlin, Hannah Brixton, Nicole Ellis, and Tori Saunders.

My name was nowhere on it.

The apartment I had bought with Dad's inheritance had been repackaged in his portfolio as a home the four of them built together.

"What's this?" I held up the portfolio.

A flicker of unease crossed Alec's face. "It's just packaging for the competition. The judges like projects with a story behind them. Writing about the four of us made it more compelling."

"And what about me?"

"You're not even in the design industry. What difference does it make whether your name's on it or not?"

His tone was dismissive, as if I were nothing more than the client who had supplied the property and the funding. I was not worth a mention in the narrative.

Hannah was still at my side, trying to smooth things over. "If Alec wins, it's good for you too. When people ask, you can tell them your apartment was renovated by an award-winning designer. That's something to brag about."

I closed the portfolio. "Did anyone ask for my permission before entering my apartment in a competition?"

"With our relationship, do we really need signed authorization?" Alec looked at me with open impatience.

"Mallory, why do you insist on keeping score over every little thing today?"

I laughed. "You're right. It really is time to settle the score."

Hannah decided I was singling her out and left.

While packing up Dad's belongings, I noticed a model set was missing. It was a limited-edition steam locomotive collection that had long been out of production. Dad had spent three full years building it. He passed away from illness before he could finish the last car.

After I bought the apartment, I had specifically prepared a climate-controlled storage room for the collection. Alec complained the models took up too much space and shoved most of them into a storage cabinet.

I opened the cabinet door. There was nothing inside but empty boxes.

"Where are they?"

No one answered. I pulled up the indoor security footage and scrubbed to a recording from two weeks ago.

On screen, Hannah carried the model set into the live stream room.

"We just hit 100,000 viewers today. I'm going to pick one lucky longtime follower and give away this out-of-print handmade model set."

The chat exploded.

Alec sat just off camera, grinning. "That thing's worth a fortune. You're really giving it away?"

Hannah waved him off. "No matter how much something's worth, it's not worth more than my followers."

For a moment, I almost thought I was seeing things.

I dragged the progress bar forward. After the stream ended, Alec even praised her for knowing how to drive engagement. Not a single one of them had ever asked who the model set belonged to.

I closed the video and called Hannah.

She picked up quickly.

"Where's the model set?"

The other end went silent for a few seconds. "Mal, why are you suddenly asking about that?"

"I'll ask one more time. Where is it?"

Hannah cleared her throat. "The winner never sent a shipping address, so it hasn't been mailed yet. It's in the back of the storage room."

When I found the set, the box had already been opened. One of the connecting joints on a car had snapped. That piece had been hand-sanded by Dad. Now, it was held together with a careless strip of clear tape.

Alec saw me crouched on the floor and softened his tone slightly. "It can be fixed. Don't you build models too?"

I looked up at him. "My father made this."

"I know." He paused, then added, "But it was just sitting there collecting dust. Hannah's career is really taking off right now. Using it as a giveaway prize could help her out."

I looked at him for a long time.

We had been together for five years. He knew Dad was the only family I had. He knew what this model set meant to me. Yet in his eyes, the last thing Dad left behind still was not worth as much as one of Hannah's live streams.

"Alec." I held his gaze.

"If it had been your father's things she gave away, would you still say that?"

His expression shifted. "Do you really have to make that comparison? The set's still here, isn't it?"

I did not argue further. I simply placed each piece back into the box, one by one.

There was no point in arguing with someone who refused to understand your pain. All he cared about was whether my pain would get in their way.