Chapter 2

Reagan's POV

Willow buries her face in Grayson's chest, eyes red. "Reagan, this is all my fault. Please don't blame Grayson or Mom and Dad. If you're angry, I'll take my son and disappear tomorrow. You can have them back."

"Shut up! Don't you dare say that!" Grayson covers her mouth, then turns on me. "Reagan, get this straight. I never loved you. It's always been Willow. You touch one hair on her head and I swear to God I'll make you regret it."

I stare at these people I used to know. The pain in my stomach comes roaring back.

I stumble backward a step. Close my eyes.

I don't remember walking out of the estate.

Everything blurs together. I move like a zombie.

I thought if I kept my mouth shut, if I just stayed away from them, I could spend these last three months dying in peace.

But I underestimated how shameless they could be.

The next morning, I wake up on my downtown apartment couch in agony. The front door beeps. Someone unlocked it.

Mom walks in with Willow, hauling suitcases behind them like they own the place.

"Reagan, now that everything's out in the open, we should all be under one roof again."

Mom doesn't even glance at how pale I am. She waves at the movers, directing them to haul my stuff out.

"The estate's too far from the preschool Willow's son goes to. This place works perfectly."

"Clear out the master bedroom for Willow and Grayson. You can take the maid's room. No windows, but you're at the office all the time anyway. It's not like you sleep much."

I stare at my own mother like she's a stranger.

"This is my apartment." I grip the edge of the couch. "Why the hell should she get my bedroom?"

"Reagan, please don't be mad." Willow's eyes well up. She shrinks behind Mom. "I don't need the master. I can sleep on the couch. As long as I can be close to you, I don't mind the inconvenience."

"Inconvenience? Since when does she get to call the shots in this house?"

Mom grabs Willow's arm, then whips around to glare at me. "Reagan, do you have a heart at all? Willow's parents died saving us! And now you won't even give her one bedroom? What, you won't be happy until you drive her to suicide?"

Right on cue, Grayson and Carter walk through the door.

Grayson carries the three-year-old in his arms.

He sees Willow crying. His face goes dark.

"Bullying Willow again, Reagan?" Grayson walks up to me, looking down like I'm trash. "I warned you. Don't bring your boardroom bullshit home."

"Bullying her?" I point at my clothes scattered across the floor. "You break into my apartment, try to steal my bedroom, and I'm the bully?"

"It's one apartment, Reagan. Why make such a big deal out of it?" Carter tugs at his tie. "You've been running the company like your own kingdom for three years. Made plenty of money. What's one apartment for Willow? Think of it as paying back the family debt."

Paying back the debt.

Why should I pay for what they owe with my life, my love, my dignity?

The pain in my stomach gets worse. Cold sweat soaks through my shirt.

I force myself to stand. Point at the door. "Get out. All of you, get the hell out!"

"Reagan, please don't kick us out."

Willow rushes forward. Grabs my hand.

When no one's looking, she sweeps the photo frame off the coffee table.

The photo from three years ago. Grayson's proposal.

The glass frame shatters on the floor.

Willow screams. Drops onto the broken glass.

Blood spreads across her palm.

"Willow!"

Grayson shoves me aside.

I'm already weak. The push sends me flying into the wall. My spine cracks against it. Everything goes black for a second.

"Reagan! Are you out of your mind?"

Carter storms over. Slaps me hard across the face.

The sound echoes through the apartment.

My ears ring. I taste blood.

"Carter, stop. It was an accident. This isn't Reagan's fault." Willow leans against Grayson, tears streaming down her face, playing the martyr.

"And you're still defending her! We saw her push you!" Mom presses tissues to Willow's hand, then turns to curse at me. "How did I raise such a vicious daughter? If I'd known you'd turn out this cold, you should've been the one who died in that crash!"

I should've been the one who died in that crash.

I hold my swollen cheek. Lean against the cold wall. Stare at these people who hate me.

Turns out when no one loves you, even breathing becomes a crime.

I pull myself off the floor. Walk to the bedroom without a word. Throw a few clothes into my suitcase.

"What are you doing? Gonna run away and sulk again?" Carter's voice drips with mockery.

I don't turn around.

I can't stay in this place one more second.

Even if I have to die under a bridge somewhere, I'm leaving.

"Do whatever you want." I grab my suitcase and walk out without looking back.