Chapter 1

When I pushed open the front door, the coffee table was piled high with takeout boxes from catering tastings.

Mom was kneeling by the sofa, gently dabbing a stain off the hem of Yvonne's dress with a damp towel.

It was the dress I had spent three months of night-shift savings to buy.

Mom looked up at Dad with a warm smile. "Look at her, darling. She’s absolute perfection. This color suits her so well."

Dad nodded, his eyes full of pride. "Our Yvonne has always been a beauty. She's going to blow his family away tomorrow."

My younger brother, Daxton, slouched on the couch with his phone, mashing buttons without looking up.

"Obviously. She's the prettiest girl in the neighborhood. That rich attorney is lucky to get her."

No one noticed me standing in the entryway.

Not until I set the framed picture down on the shoe rack, the wooden base hitting the top with a sharp clatter.

Mom’s smile vanished. She frowned at me. "Goodness, Clara, why do you creep around so quietly? What is that?"

I turned the frame around so it faced them. "I went to the photo studio today."

My throat felt tight as I spoke. "The photographer said I looked nice sitting in the center."

In the picture, I wore a simple white shirt against a clean crimson backdrop.

There were no parents, no sister, no brother. Just me, sitting dead center.

Silence fell over the living room.

Yvonne lifted the hem of the dress and walked toward me, her brow furrowed in annoyance. "Clara, what is this supposed to be?"

"Tomorrow is my engagement dinner," she said. "Why are you bringing out a solitary portrait today? It looks weird."

Mom hurried over, snatching the frame from my hands and flipping it face down on the console.

"Your sister is right. Bringing out a lone portrait in a dark frame on the eve of an engagement is bad luck."

I looked down at the upside-down frame, my fingers trembling. "Mom, it's just a normal photo frame."

"It doesn't matter," Mom snapped, waving her hand dismissively. "You’re always making things complicated. Don't ruin your sister's big day."

Dad stood up and walked over, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Clara, be reasonable. You're not feeling well, so stop causing trouble."

His voice was gentle, the tone a parent uses to soothe a child throwing a tantrum.

"Tomorrow is a huge milestone for your sister. Guests will be coming and going. If people see this sitting out, they'll ask strange questions."

He picked up the frame, looked at it for a second, and handed it back to me.

"It's a lovely photo, Clara. Dad will help you put it away for now. Once the engagement is over, we'll hang it in your bedroom, alright?"

I looked up, staring straight into his eyes. "What if I can't wait until then?"

He blinked, caught completely off guard.

Daxton sat up on the couch, frowning at me before softening his tone. "Come on, Clara, you know how important tomorrow is."

He walked over and draped an arm around my neck, shaking me gently the way he used to when we were kids.

"It’s a cool picture, but today really isn't the time. After my match tomorrow, I'll take you back to the studio. I'll stand right next to you so you look even better."

Yvonne sighed, reaching out to take my hand. "Clara, I know you haven't been feeling well lately and your mood is down."

She leaned in close, framing my face with her hands, the exact gesture she used to comfort me when we were little.

"It is really a beautiful photo. It just... looks a bit lonely with only you in it."

She smiled softly. "Once everything settles down, the two of us will go get a portrait done together. You sit in the middle, and I'll stand beside you as your backup. How does that sound?"

I pulled my hand out of her grip without saying a word. I bent down, scooped up the frame, and walked into my bedroom.

The moment the door clicked shut, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was an automated text message from the city oncology center.

[Patient Clara Miller: This is a reminder that you have 48 hours remaining to confirm your spot in the relapsed lymphoma clinical trial. Failure to pay the diagnostic deposit by the deadline will result in forfeiting your spot for free treatment.]

I slid down the wooden door, sinking onto the floor.

Staring at the photograph of myself finally sitting in the center, I buried my face in my knees and wept in total silence.

Outside, Mom's muffled voice drifted through the wall. "Her temper is getting stranger by the day. She's so ungrateful."

"Let it go," Dad coaxed gently. "She's weak and sick, so we have to make allowances. Yvonne's engagement comes first tomorrow."

I closed my eyes.

I didn't want their tolerance anymore.