Chapter3

Harper's POV

I set the cup down on the entryway table.

"I can't drink this."

"Here we go." His face falls. "I'm literally trying to apologize, Harper. I already explained the necklace thing. What else do you want?"

I study him for a second.

He really doesn't remember.

"I don't want anything."

I step around him and head down to the basement.

The basement was never finished. Concrete floor, no windows, stacks of old boxes and Christmas decorations. In the corner, someone has set up a folding cot. The mattress is so thin I can feel the metal frame through it.

The air is damp and stale, with a mildew smell that never quite goes away.

I open a plastic storage bin and start putting my clothes in it, one piece at a time.

Footsteps on the stairs. Brooke leans on the railing, the necklace still around her neck.

"Thanks for the room, Harper."

Her eyes wander around the basement and land on the little velvet box I just set on the desk.

My grandmother's engagement ring.

The summer before she died, Grandma pressed it into my palm and said, "This is for you. Don't tell anyone."

It's the only thing in this house that has ever been only mine.

Brooke reaches for it.

"Oh my God, it's so pretty. It'd be perfect with my champagne dress tomorrow."

I catch her wrist.

"Don't touch that."

A second later, she screams, and the tears just turn on.

"Ow! Harper, what is wrong with you?"

Upstairs, all the laughter stops.

Then heavy footsteps. Mason takes the stairs two at a time and yanks Brooke behind him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I told her not to touch my stuff."

"Your stuff?" He laughs. "What in this house is yours?"

Mom is right behind him, turning Brooke's hand over and over. "Baby, are you hurt?"

There isn't even a red mark on Brooke's wrist.

She's still sniffling. "I just wanted to borrow it for one day…"

Ethan hangs back at the top of the stairs.

"Harper, what's going on with you lately? It's an old ring. Letting her wear it for a day isn't going to kill you."

"Grandma left it to me."

My throat is tight.

"So what?" Mason says. "Everybody knows Grandma loved Brooke more. If anyone should have it, it's her."

He grabs the box.

I reach for it, and he blocks me with his arm and shoves me back.

My lower back slams into the corner of the desk. For a second, everything goes black.

"You're this selfish," he says, pressing the box into Brooke's hand, "and you think you deserve Grandma's ring?"

"Keep it, Brooke. I'd like to see somebody try and take it."

Brooke smiles through her tears. "Thank you, Mason."

I hold on to the desk and slowly straighten up.

Mom is wiping Brooke's tears. Mason is standing guard in front of her.

And Ethan, still at the top of the stairs, says in this incredibly generous voice:

"Just let her wear it for a couple days. When she gets bored of it, I'll make sure she gives it back. You don't have to make such a big deal out of everything."

I laugh. I can't help it.

Eighteen years of waiting, and this is what I get. A ring I can have back once somebody else is done with it.

"Don't bother giving it back. Keep it. I don't want it anymore."

Before, this is where I would have cried. Begged. Locked myself in my room and skipped dinner, waiting for someone to come knock on the door.

Nobody ever did.

"You… really don't want it?"

"Yeah. I'd like to be alone now."

They file back up the stairs. Mason goes last. On his way past, he checks me with his shoulder.

I follow them up, shut the basement door, and lock it from the inside.

Through the door, I hear Mom: "Leave her. Skip a couple of meals and she'll come around."

I slide down with my back against the door and sit on the top step.

I pull out my phone, open Dr. Chen's email, and hit reply.

"Dear Dr. Chen, I'm sorry for the late reply. I'd like to accept. If it's possible, I can leave for Boston tomorrow."

Send.

I power off my phone and toss it onto the cot.

Twelve hours to go.

Upstairs, it's loud and happy all night. They're picking songs for tomorrow's playlist. They're debating which sorority Brooke should rush.

Nobody remembers I barely touched my dinner.

Tomorrow, I'm gone.

I'm awake before my alarm goes off.

I shove a few changes of clothes, my laptop, and my charger into my backpack. Then I open the desk drawer.

There should be a manila envelope in there. My driver's license, my passport, my Carlisle acceptance letter, and every page of my Meridian scholarship paperwork.

The drawer is empty.

I yank it all the way out and turn it upside down.

Nothing.

Then I remember. Yesterday, before the movers took my desk, Brooke spent a long time alone in my room. She said she was "measuring for the closet."

My heart is pounding in my throat. I take the basement stairs, cut through the living room, and run up to the second floor.

Mom's bedroom door is cracked open. I can hear Brooke laughing inside.

"Mom, you won't believe this. Harper had a fake acceptance letter hidden in her drawer. I'm literally dying."

"A fake what?"

"From Carlisle! With a full scholarship!" Brooke can barely breathe, she's laughing so hard. "She totally found a template online and Photoshopped it. Carlisle. Like, who does she think she is?"

"That girl…" Mom sighs. "She cares way too much about appearances. You didn't wreck anything, did you?"

"I ripped it up." Brooke sounds completely unbothered. "Tossed it in the dumpster by the front gate. With all her other junk. Her ID and stuff."

I stand outside the door, and my head goes white with static.

Without my license and passport, I can't even get through airport security.

Today is Tuesday.

The garbage truck comes to our development every Tuesday at nine. On the dot.

I look at my phone.

8:21.