Chapter 3

After that suffocating dinner, Cove showed up on our front porch holding two oversized iced mango boba slushies.

One for Lumina. One for me.

Lumina took a sip from her straw and gave him a bright thumbs-up.

"You're a lifesaver, Cove. This humidity was killing me."

I just held my plastic cup. The icy condensation seeped into my palms, chilling me all the way to my chest.

Before Cove became fully inducted into Lumina's orbit, he had confided in me about his older brother—a varsity star who eclipsed him in every way.

I used to think we were kindred spirits, trapped in the same invisible shadows.

But after he got to know Lumina better, Cove had shrugged and told me, "Your sister is just... easier to be around."

Even after that, I still harbored a quiet loyalty toward him. He was the only person who remembered I existed. If he bought a gift for Lumina, he always bought a second one for me.

But somewhere along the line, the identical gifts became exclusively things Lumina wanted.

"Sorrel, what are you waiting for? Drink it," Cove urged, though his eyes never left Lumina's glowing face.

I looked down at the bright yellow slush.

"Cove, I'm allergic to mango. And I have a sensitive stomach; I can't do iced drinks."

The porch went dead silent for a second.

Cove's brows furrowed as he racked his brain, before genuine annoyance washed over his face.

"Are you sure? I swear you've eaten mango before. Plus, it's ninety degrees out, everything is iced. Stop being such a diva, would you?"

I stared at him.

The one time I ate a mango was the first time I ate it.

We were freshmen. My throat closed up, and Cove had cried in the ER waiting room, swearing he would never forget my allergy again.

I guess his never only lasted three years.

Kael leaned against the doorframe, scoffing.

"Are you throwing a tantrum again, Sorrel? You always have to ruin the mood when everyone else is trying to celebrate."

I lowered my eyes, overwhelmingly glad I hadn't chosen a school in New York. Four more years of this would have broken me entirely.

The next afternoon, my parents decided to drive down to the local country club to book the venue for the graduation dinner.

I stood awkwardly in the driveway. The cruel August sun baked the suburban asphalt, radiating heat that burned the backs of my ankles.

Dad tapped the steering wheel of his SUV. "Are you getting in or what?"

"There isn't a seat for me."

Dad frowned, a harsh crease forming between his brows. "Can't you just squeeze in?"

"Lumi gets carsick, so she has to ride shotgun," Mom chimed in from the back. "Just be accommodating for once, Sorrel."

I looked through the windows. Lumina was already adjusting the passenger sun visor. Mom and Kael flanked the back doors, while Cove sat dead center, clutching Lumina's new MacBook box on his lap.

There was physically no space. If I crammed in, I'd be wedged awkwardly across someone's knees like a stray dog.

"I literally can't fit," I said quietly.

Dad let out a sharp sigh. "Then just call an Uber. It's only a few miles down the road."

I took a step back. "You guys go ahead, I'll—"

Before I even finished my sentence, Dad shifted into drive and hit the gas. The SUV peeled out of the driveway, blowing a cloud of hot exhaust straight into my face.

The fumes stung my nose. I blinked hard, turned around, and walked back up the driveway alone.

Inside the empty, blissfully quiet house, I went straight to the kitchen.

I boiled a pot of water and made a pack of extra-spicy Buldak ramen. I dumped the entire red seasoning packet in. It was blistering. It made my nose run and tears prick my eyes, but it was exactly what I wanted. I ate every last bite.

Just as I finished wiping down the countertops, my phone buzzed.

An iMessage audio clip from Mom. Over the loud, cheerful clinking of country club silverware, her voice snapped: "Come on, Sorrel, where are you? Call a car already. Don't make us wait!"

I hovered my thumb over the block button for a second. Instead, I just typed: [Not coming.]

I went upstairs to my bedroom and pulled my duffel bag from the closet.

I only packed my summer clothes; I could buy whatever winter gear I needed when I got down South. Everything else—including the gray e-reader Kael had bought me—stayed neatly on my desk.

Then, I reached under my bed for my lockbox.

It was where I kept my cash tips from my private tutoring gigs. I had saved enough to cover a laptop and a decent chunk of out-of-state living expenses.

I popped the lid open.

My heart dropped.

The thick stack of hundred-dollar bills was gone. All that remained were a few scattered singles and a five-dollar bill. Thirty-two dollars.

I tore my room apart. The drawers, the closet, the pockets of my jackets. Nothing.

Where did all my money go?

I was on the verge of a full panic attack, phone in hand ready to dial 911, when the front door chimed downstairs. Footsteps echoed up the stairs.

A moment later, my bedroom door swung open. Lumina leaned against the frame, shaking her wrist with a bright, manufactured smile.

A glittering Cartier Love bracelet caught the hallway light.

"Isn't it gorgeous?" she hummed, admiring her own wrist.

"Mom got it for me at the boutique next to the club as a special congratulations. It was super expensive, though. Three thousand, eight hundred dollars."

Three thousand, eight hundred.

The exact amount missing from my lockbox.

I looked past Lumina into the hallway, locking eyes with Mom as she walked by.

"You stole my money?"