Chapter 1
My stepmother handed everyone a plane ticket except me.
“You’re staying home,” she said. “Someone has to watch the house.”
I stood in the living room doorway with a laundry basket digging into my hip.
For a second, I thought she was joking.
Vanessa had laid four blue-and-white tickets across the coffee table. Honolulu was printed across the top. My older stepbrother, Isaiah, held one. My stepsister, Kendra, had another resting against her knee.
Two more remained beside Vanessa’s jewelry case.
There should have been five.
“But Dad said we were all going.”
Vanessa looked up from the table.
Her smile barely moved.
“Plans changed.”
I lowered the basket onto the floor. One of Dad’s shirts slipped over the edge.
Nobody reached to pick it up.
I had folded clothes all afternoon because Vanessa said we needed everything ready before we packed. My suitcase was already upstairs, open on my bed. Inside were two swimsuits, sunscreen, and the yellow dress Dad bought me for the beach dinner he kept talking about.
He had promised we would watch the sunset together.
I looked at the tickets again.
“Did you tell him?”
Vanessa’s expression cooled.
“Your father has enough to think about.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Kendra looked down.
Isaiah shifted on the sofa.
I waited for one of them to say there had been a mistake.
Neither did.
Vanessa picked up the remaining tickets and tapped their edges against the table.
“Don’t start, Maya. You’re fifteen. Staying home for a week won’t hurt you.”
“A whole week?”
“You can manage. There’s food in the freezer.”
I stared at her.
I had never stayed alone overnight. Dad would not even let me return from a late school event without someone meeting me.
Now Vanessa spoke as if leaving me behind were the most sensible part of the vacation.
“What about Aunt Simone?” I asked. “Could I stay with her?”
“She’s busy.”
“Did you ask?”
“Maya.”
The warning in her voice made my stomach tighten.
I knew that tone. It meant the conversation was becoming something she could describe to Dad later as my attitude.
I had been quiet so many times.
Quiet when she gave me everyone’s breakfast dishes because I was already in the kitchen.
Quiet when she told Kendra I liked doing laundry.
Quiet when she said family photographs looked crowded and asked me to step aside.
Tonight, the word Honolulu sat on the table in front of me.
I could not make myself quiet.
“I thought this was a family trip.”
Vanessa leaned back.
“It is.”
The room seemed to shrink.
Kendra’s fingers tightened around her ticket.
Isaiah said, “Mom, maybe we should wait for Marcus.”
Vanessa gave him a look.
“I’ve handled it.”
I bent to pick up the shirt that had fallen.
My eyes burned.
I did not want her to see me cry. She always called it a performance when I cried in front of anyone else.
Behind me, the front door opened.
I heard Dad set down his keys.
Then his footsteps stopped.
“What have you handled?”
I straightened slowly.
Dad stood in the doorway wearing his navy quarter-zip sweater. His gray-flecked beard looked damp from the rain outside.
His eyes moved from my face to the laundry basket.
Then to the tickets.
Vanessa smiled quickly.
“We’re sorting out travel arrangements.”
Dad looked at me.
“Maya?”
I swallowed.
“She said I’m staying home.”
He stared at Vanessa.
“No, she isn’t.”
“Marcus, let’s discuss it in the kitchen.”
“We can discuss it here.”
“She’s old enough to understand that not every plan works out.”
“The plan was all five of us.”
Vanessa began to answer, but Dad stepped toward the coffee table.
He took the tickets from her hand.
She reached after them.
“Don’t bend those.”
He counted them.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
His face changed.
“Where’s Maya’s?”
“There was a booking issue.”
“You just told her she had to watch the house.”
“I was simplifying.”
Dad looked at Isaiah and Kendra.
Neither spoke.
Something white protruded beneath the jewelry case.
Dad picked it up.
It was part of a torn ticket sleeve, folded inward as if someone had tried to hide the printed name.
My name.
Maya Bennett.
Vanessa stood.
“Marcus, give me that.”
He moved it out of her reach.
“What happened to this?”
“It’s an old printout.”
“From when?”
“Before the booking was corrected.”
Dad took out his phone.
Vanessa’s voice sharpened.
“You don’t need to call anyone.”
He looked at her.
“I do.”
He called the airline using the number on the itinerary and verified the booking details. I stood beside the laundry basket, listening to his side of the conversation.
“Yes, I’m the contact on the reservation.”
He gave his name.
Then mine.
Vanessa walked toward the kitchen, stopped, and returned.
Kendra looked sick.
Dad waited.
Then he said, “Yesterday?”
My heart began to pound.
He turned slowly toward Vanessa.
“They said Maya’s ticket was canceled yesterday.”
Vanessa opened her mouth.
Dad held up one finger, listening.
Then he lowered the phone a fraction.
“By you.”
I gripped the basket handle.
Something inside me folded.
Not a mistake.
Not a missing seat.
She had canceled me.
Dad looked at the torn paper in his hand.
“And the refund?”
Vanessa moved closer.
“Marcus, this is unnecessary.”
He put the call on speaker.
The agent explained that the refund had been sent to the card used for that portion of the booking. Dad asked for the information he was authorized to confirm.
He listened.
Then his face hardened.
“That card isn’t mine.”
The room went silent.
Dad faced Vanessa.
“Whose card is it?”
May you like
The agent began to answer.
Vanessa lunged toward the phone.
