All Chapters of The things we couldn't afford: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

By Sunday evening, Cecilia Brooks had learned three things about moving away from home.First, a suitcase with one broken wheel could turn a five-minute walk into a personal tragedy.Second, her fourteen-year-old brother could be remarkably generous when he wanted something from her.And third, no amount of reassurance could convince her mother that sending her only eighteen-year-old daughter to a boarding school three hours away was a perfectly reasonable decision.“You have your phone charger?”“Yes, Mom.”“Your medication?”“I don't take any medication.”“Your vitamins?”Cecilia stopped halfway through folding a shirt.“Mom.”“What?”“I packed them yesterday.”Her mother glanced at the suitcase.“Did you pack enough?”“Enough for what? A war?”“Cecilia.”“I'm sorry.” Cecilia suppressed a smile. “Yes. I packed enough.”Her mother returned to the kitchen counter, where she had arranged a collection of snacks inside a paper bag.There were granola bars, crackers, two packets of cookie

Cecilia did not sleep well that night.It wasn't because of the unfamiliar bed or the occasional footsteps outside her dorm room. She had expected those things. She had also expected to miss home, struggle with the new schedule, and spend at least a few days feeling like an outsider.What she hadn't expected was to lie awake thinking about money.Specifically, someone else's money.Rita's message remained unanswered on her phone.Someone with money. Someone who likes helping people he believes have potential.It sounded harmless enough when Cecilia read it quickly. People donated to scholarships. Wealthy families funded charitable programs. Alumni helped students pay for college.There were perfectly reasonable explanations for financial assistance.Yet Rita's final message bothered her.People like him don't always want the same things they say they want.If Rita knew something, why wouldn't she simply tell her?And if she didn't know anything, why was she making the whole thing soun

Rita Bennett had always hated being surprised.She preferred knowing what people wanted before they asked for it, understanding a room before entering it, and discovering a secret before it had the chance to become someone else's weapon.At Westbridge, that habit had served her well.She knew which teachers favored students who spoke confidently, which girls smiled at you in public and mocked you in private, and which boys mistook their parents' money for a personality.She also knew how quickly a rumor could destroy a reputation.That was why, on Tuesday morning, she stood outside the student council office staring at a message she had received from an unfamiliar number.We need to talk about Cecilia. Today.No greeting. No explanation.Rita read it twice.Then she typed a response.Who is this?The reply arrived less than a minute later.Someone who remembers what happened.For several seconds, Rita forgot where she was.Students moved through the corridor around her, their voices b

The photograph remained in James Carter's notebook until Thursday morning.He had considered throwing it away.He had also considered asking Rita Bennett about it immediately, but neither option felt right. Destroying the photograph would accomplish nothing, and confronting Rita with an unexplained accusation from an anonymous sender seemed like a good way to start an argument without learning anything useful.So he did neither.He kept it.That decision bothered him more than he cared to admit.James had always considered himself a reasonable person. He disliked gossip, avoided unnecessary confrontations, and preferred asking questions directly rather than inventing explanations for things he didn't understand.Yet he had spent most of Wednesday evening looking at a photograph of two people meeting in a café, trying to determine what their expressions meant.It was ridiculous.He didn't know what had happened last summer. He didn't know why someone had sent him the picture. And he ce

By the end of Friday afternoon, the student activities fair had become the least interesting thing happening at Westbridge Academy.The tables were still standing in the courtyard. The debate society continued handing out flyers, the gardening club continued trying to convince students that growing vegetables was exciting, and the student council had somehow acquired a speaker that played music loudly enough to be heard from the academic building.But almost nobody was paying attention.Phones had replaced flyers.Conversations stopped whenever someone opened the student newspaper website.And every few minutes, another person seemed to discover the article about Daniel Whitaker's educational programs.Cecilia Brooks watched the change from a distance.She and Rita had eventually left the bench beneath the maple tree, though neither of them had known where to go afterward. Cecilia had suggested getting something to drink, mostly because sitting beneath that tree any longer had begun t