Chapter 3

The next evening, Lily posted a rental listing in our group chat.

It was a four-bedroom house in Atlanta, ten minutes from the production office, with a deck overlooking a creek.

Owen picked the bedroom next to hers. Noah asked whether the smallest room would fit his desk. Ethan uploaded a furniture list.

They spent half an hour discussing mattresses and dining chairs.

I studied the floor plan. They'd found a room for each of them and left me out.

Finally, I typed: You're all moving to Atlanta?

Nobody answered.

Then Lily sent me a private message.

They haven't told you?

I was waiting in the living room when Ethan came home. I held up my phone.

“You applied for a transfer?”

He stopped taking off his jacket. “It isn't final yet.”

“When?”

“Last month.”

That was the month he'd held me in bed and told me he couldn't stand the thought of living in different cities. I'd turned down Chicago for the second time because he'd asked me to stay.

He sat beside me and reached for my hand. I moved it into my lap.

“Lily doesn't know anyone there. It's a rough industry, Claire. She needs people she can trust.”

“How long were you planning to stay?”

“Six months. A year at most.”

“And me?”

“We'd visit. It's not like we're breaking up.”

“You told me weekends weren't enough for a relationship.”

“That was different.”

“How?”

His mouth tightened. “Can you please stop making this about you? She's finally getting a chance.”

Owen and Noah came through the front door before I could answer.

Ethan gave them his version of the conversation. Owen took a folder from his bag and laid it on the coffee table.

“We've paid the deposit. You might as well see it.”

Four signatures sat at the bottom of the lease.

Lily had been talking about moving to Atlanta for months. Owen had arranged to work remotely for six months, and Noah had secured a research placement there starting in July. They'd been making plans to go with her while telling me to stay put.

“We assumed you’d take the job I lined up for you here,” Owen said. “Your whole life is in Bellhaven. Why would you move to Atlanta?”

“Did anyone think to ask what I wanted?”

“We didn’t know there was anything to ask.”

I turned back to the floor plan. “One bedroom each.”

“Yes.”

“And if I visit?”

“There are hotels nearby.”

I looked at Ethan. He said nothing.

They hadn't forgotten to ask me. They'd planned around my absence.

Lily appeared in the doorway.

“You can have my room if you want, Claire.” Her eyes filled. “I don't want everyone fighting because of me.”

“You need your own space,” Noah said immediately. “You'll be working strange hours.”

Ethan leaned toward me. “Don't put her in this position. We'll be back.”

I'd heard that promise before, usually just before someone asked me to give up something they would never ask Lily to lose.

In high school, our family had been able to afford one residential summer program. I'd won a partial scholarship to a competitive design course. Lily had been rejected by her first-choice acting workshop and found a second program that cost almost the same as my remaining tuition.

No one had told me outright to give up my place.

They'd said Lily was devastated and needed the workshop to improve her chances. I already had a strong portfolio; I would get into a good college wherever I spent the summer.

Every conversation ended there, with everyone waiting for me to be reasonable.

I withdrew. Lily went to her program. I rebuilt my portfolio at the kitchen table while working shifts at a grocery store. By the time my last college interview came around, I had the flu and a fever.

I got in, barely, from the waitlist.

They'd all said they knew I would manage.

I closed the lease and went upstairs.

Northline's HR coordinator had emailed to confirm my start date: June 28. Did that still work for me?

Yes, I wrote. I'll be there.

Downstairs, Lily suggested moving on the twenty-seventh.

“Perfect,” Ethan said.

I checked the date on my own ticket. I would be in Chicago the day before I started work.