Chapter 2

We landed in San Diego at two in the afternoon.

Warm air hit us as we stepped through the airport doors. Olivia had on an enormous straw hat and was holding a little sun umbrella.

“It's so hot. Ethan, can we please go to the hotel?”

He pushed her suitcase with one hand and took out his phone with the other.

“I've already ordered a van. It'll be here any minute.”

Nathan and Lucas followed, carrying the bags of snacks Olivia had picked up in an airport shop.

I pulled my own carry-on about ten feet behind them. Nobody looked back to see whether I was keeping up.

At the oceanfront hotel, the woman at the desk smiled as she took Nathan's ID.

“I see you have one ocean-view room with a king bed and two standard rooms with two beds each.”

Nathan nodded.

Olivia leaned against Ethan, frowning a little.

“I've been sleeping so badly lately. If I share a room, I'm afraid I'll be up all night.”

His voice softened as he looked down at her.

“It's fine. You take the ocean-view room.” He turned to Nathan. “I'll share with you. Lucas, I guess you'll have to put up with having a room to yourself.”

Lucas waved that away. “Works for me. Peace and quiet.”

The desk clerk laid out three key cards. None of the four looked at them twice. As far as they were concerned, everything was settled.

I stood beside them and watched the cards change hands.

The clerk glanced from me to the others.

“And this guest…?”

Only then did Ethan turn around, as though he'd just remembered I existed.

“Christina, share with Liv. It's a king bed. There's plenty of room for two women.”

Olivia bit her lip, looking troubled.

“You don't snore, do you, Christina? I'm really sensitive to noise.”

Lucas laughed.

“Don't worry. Chris sleeps like a log. Doesn't move an inch.”

I looked at Ethan's matter-of-fact expression and slowly tightened my grip on my suitcase handle.

“I'm not comfortable sharing a bed.”

He frowned at once.

“Christina, are you seriously doing this again? It's fall break. Everything's booked. If you won't share with Liv, where do you expect to sleep? On the street?”

Nathan's expression hardened too.

“Be reasonable, Chris. Stop making things difficult for everyone.”

I didn't argue. I slid my license across the desk.

“Could you check whether you have anything left? Any kind of room.”

The clerk typed for a few moments, then looked up.

“There's one discounted room at the end of the lower hallway. It's very small, and the window faces a service wall. It's also near the elevator, so there may be some noise. Would that work?”

“I'll take it.”

I paid with my own card. All four of them stood there and watched me book the worst room in the hotel. Not one tried to stop me.

Ethan let out a cold laugh.

“Fine. If you want to be miserable, go ahead. It's your money.”

Olivia slipped her arm through his.

“Let it go, Ethan. Christina's just very independent. Can we put our bags down? I'm exhausted and all sweaty.”

They took their cards and headed for the elevator to the upper floors. I turned toward the smaller elevator on the other side of the lobby.

The room really was tiny. Aside from the bed, there was barely anywhere to put my suitcase.

I sat on the edge of the mattress. My phone buzzed.

It was a screenshot from the four-person chat I wasn't in. Olivia had sent it to the five of us, then immediately unsent it.

It was only there for a second, but I read it.

Lucas: “What's for dinner?”

Olivia: “Seafood! I hear there's a really good little place near the fish market.”

Ethan: “Sure. I'll make a reservation.”

Nathan: “What about Chris?”

Lucas: “Same as always. Let her guess. If she can't figure it out, maybe she'll learn something. That'll teach her to give us attitude at check-in.”

I stared at the notice that a message had been unsent. I almost smiled.

Ten minutes later, Ethan posted in our chat.

“Seven tonight. The usual place.”

No address. No hint.

There was no “usual place.” Just another game they'd made up and expected me to play.

I didn't answer.

Instead, I opened my email. An unread message was waiting in my inbox: a leading design firm in France confirming I'd passed the final interview.

Three years earlier, I'd received an email just like it.

Back then, Ethan had held my hands, his eyes wet, and begged me to stay.

“Please don't go, Christina. I'll give you a home.”

For that promise, I had given up Paris. I'd stayed in Chicago and helped him work his way up from a junior management job.

Three years later, the home he'd promised me still kept a guest room especially for Olivia.

I opened the email and accepted the offer.

Then I put away my phone, changed into comfortable clothes, and left the hotel alone.

The evening breeze carried the damp smell of the ocean. I didn't go near the fish market, and I didn't try to guess which restaurant they'd chosen.

I found a little hole-in-the-wall café and ordered a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup.

Halfway through it, the group chat began buzzing nonstop.

Lucas: “Christina Reed, where are you? It's seven thirty.”

Olivia: “Do you think she's lost? Should we send her the address?”

Ethan: “Why bother? If she can't even figure out where we are, she deserves to go hungry.”

I read their messages and slowly finished the last of my broth.

After paying, I bought a lemonade and walked back into the ocean breeze.

Whatever was happening at their dinner table no longer interested me.