Chapter 3

The morning before my welcome-home party, I woke to the sound of furniture scraping across the hallway.

Two housekeepers were carrying boxes out of the bedroom at the end of the second floor. I stopped beside the open door, surprised to see Sienna's dresses piled on the bed.

Mrs. Doyle, the head housekeeper, noticed me. "Good morning, Miss Paige. Your father asked us to get this room ready for you."

I stared at her. "This room?"

"The one your parents prepared for you when you were born. Don Valenti said you should have it back before tomorrow's party."

For three years, I'd lived in a guest room overlooking the driveway.

The first time I'd asked about this bedroom, Mother said Sienna had grown attached to it and moving her would be upsetting. I hadn't asked again.

Now I stepped inside. Afternoon light would reach the tall windows, and beyond them lay the garden I'd often admired from downstairs.

It was larger than I needed, but that wasn't what made my throat tighten.

They'd once chosen this room for me.

"Does Sienna know?" I asked.

"Mrs. Valenti was informed this morning," Mrs. Doyle said. "The east-wing suite is ready for Miss Sienna."

I thanked her and went to fetch the few things I'd brought from the orphanage.

Among them was a photograph of me at sixteen, standing outside my school with a scholarship certificate. The frame was chipped. I'd kept it because it was one of the rare photographs in which I looked genuinely happy.

I placed it on the windowsill. For a moment, I imagined arranging my books here and waking up without being reminded that I was a guest.

Then a voice came from the doorway.

"What are you doing in my room?"

Sienna stood there in a robe, staring at the open closet.

"Father asked them to move me in," I said.

Her face changed. "And nobody thought to ask me?"

"I assumed someone had told you."

"This has been my room since I was four."

"I know. It was mine before that."

She looked at my photograph on the sill. "So you're just going to throw away twenty-one years of my life?"

"No. They're moving your belongings to the east wing, not throwing them away."

"You don't understand." Her voice shook. "This is the only place where I feel safe."

"Then you should speak to Father. He's the one who made the decision."

She hurried away before I finished.

Twenty minutes later, Mother entered with Adrian and Nolan. Two guards waited outside, apparently summoned to stop the housekeepers.

"Put everything back," Mother ordered.

Mrs. Doyle hesitated. "Don Valenti requested—"

"I'll deal with my husband."

I stepped forward. "Has something happened?"

"Sienna is downstairs crying," Mother said. "She's frightened because she thinks we're pushing her out of the family."

"She's moving bedrooms. How does that mean she's being pushed out of the family?"

Nolan let out an impatient breath. "You know she has anxiety. Do you have to make this harder?"

"I didn't arrange the move."

"Then tell them to stop," he said.

I looked at Adrian. "Father promised me this room. Did he change his mind?"

Adrian avoided my eyes. "We'll find you somewhere else. This estate has thirty bedrooms."

"Then Sienna can choose one of the other twenty-nine."

"Paige." Mother's voice turned sharp. "She's lived here for twenty-one years. You can't expect her to give that up in a morning."

I glanced around at the boxes. Everything Sienna owned would be carefully moved into another luxurious suite. No one was asking her to leave the estate.

"How much notice would be enough?" I asked. "A week? A month? You knew I was back three years ago."

Mother folded her arms. "Why do you insist on turning a simple adjustment into a fight?"

"Because I want to know when the adjustment will happen."

Father arrived before she could answer. His phone was still in his hand, and he looked irritated at having been called away from a meeting.

"What's going on?"

Mother explained that Sienna had become distressed. Nolan added that I was refusing to cooperate. Father listened, then pointed toward the open boxes.

"Put everything back. We'll sort it out after the party."

I looked at him. "You told Mrs. Doyle the room should have been mine three years ago."

"It should have been."

"Then why isn't it mine now?"

"Because your sister is unwell, and I'm not letting a bedroom dispute ruin tomorrow's event."

"Is she losing her bedroom, or getting another one?"

He frowned. "What difference does that make?"

"It makes a difference to me. Everyone keeps saying she's losing something. She'll still have a bedroom. I'm the only one who never got the room you promised."

His expression hardened. "Enough, Paige. We have guests arriving tomorrow. I expect you to behave like an adult."

He left with Mother and my brothers. None of them asked whether I needed help putting my things away.

Mrs. Doyle waited until their footsteps faded. "Shall I take your photograph back to the guest room, miss?"

"I'll do it. Thank you."

I picked up the frame and returned to the room I'd occupied for three years. It had expensive furniture and fresh flowers, but there was nothing on the walls that I'd chosen myself.

Even the clothes mother bought me were usually in colors Sienna liked.

I opened my suitcase.

First went the photograph, then my documents, laptop, and the bracelet Isabella had sent for my birthday. I left the pearls Adrian had given me in their box.

I wasn't leaving tonight. Tomorrow, my family had one last promise to keep.

But if they broke it, I wanted to be ready.

I closed the suitcase and slid it beneath the bed.

For the first time since coming to the Valenti estate, I was preparing to leave instead of finding another reason to stay.