The Billionaire's Lost Sister

Seven years after my billionaire biological family finally tracked me down, I still wasn't allowed through their front door.

Piper, the fake daughter who took my place, hadn't moved out of the mansion either.

Nathaniel had cast the ancestral coins for me ninety-nine times. Ninety-nine bad omens.

On the one-hundredth time, I stood outside his study, peering through the crack in the heavy oak door. I watched the coins land perfectly on the desk. An undeniable blessing.

Nathaniel stared down at the reading. The silence stretched heavy in the room before he finally spoke.

"It has to be a bad omen," he muttered. "Maeve is used to running wild in the slums. She can handle it.

But Piper has been pampered her whole life. If she gets kicked out of this mansion, she'll completely break down."

The realization clicked into my brain like an iron deadbolt. He just didn't want me back.

That was fine. I didn't want this suffocating house anymore either.

I turned on my heel, shoved my few belongings into a duffel bag, zipped it shut, and bought a one-way ticket out of town.

I boarded the southbound train to the military base.

Chapter 1

The divination room was dim, heavy with the scent of burning incense. I stood soundlessly outside the door, my eyes fixed on the moon blocks scattered on the floor.

One face up, one face down. A blessing.

Nathaniel had tossed them five times, yielding the exact same result every single time. But the cold, flat tone of his voice had already rewritten the heavens' answer.

A sudden gust of wind swept through the courtyard, kicking up dust that stung my eyes.

Nathaniels jaw ticked, his entire body frozen for a long, agonizing moment. Then, he leaned over and tapped one of the upward-facing blocks.

A gentle flip. Up became down. A blessing became a curse.

When he straightened back up, he muttered to the empty room. "She'll never know. It's been seven years no one else has noticed either, right?"

The hundredth reading I had been waiting for with bated breath wasn't a turning point. It was just the hundredth lie built to keep me locked out of the estate. White noise flooded my ears.

Then, a sickly sweet voice shattered the quiet from the courtyard gates behind me.

"Maeve! What are you doing in the courtyard?" Pipers voice pitched high, grating against my eardrums. "Nathaniel is doing a reading. You know you aren't allowed back here!"

The heavy door ripped open. Nathaniel stood in the frame. His brows pulled together, a flash of undeniable panic tightening the corners of his eyes. "How long have you been standing there?"

I shoved my hands deep into my coat pockets, my nails digging into my palms until the skin threatened to break. I met his gaze with dead, flat eyes.

"Just got here. Dinner's almost ready. I came to get you."

It was New Year's Eve. The one day out of the entire year the family dragged themselves to my small annex to keep me company. For the past seven years, Nathaniel had always fed me the same line.

That even if I couldn't legally cross the threshold of the main house, I was still part of this family. His one and only sister.

It was a holiday for family, so of course, we had to be together. I used to actually buy into that garbage.

The tension bled out of Nathaniels shoulders. He tried to reach out to touch me, but I dodged to the side, letting my cold stare slide over him. His hand was left hanging awkwardly in mid-air.

He cleared his throat, his voice returning to its usual, manufactured warmth. "Let's go, then. Time for dinner."

The words barely left his mouth before Piper bolted into the courtyard, her eyes rimmed with red. She looked at Nathaniel, wearing a mask of perfect, terrified grief. "Did you finish the reading? Is Maeve is she finally moving into the main house?"

Nathaniel met her gaze. He didn't say a word.

Pipers bottom lip trembled. A single, practiced tear spilled over her lashes.

"I I understand. Congratulations, Maeve. You finally get to go home.

I'll I'll go pack my things right now."

Her voice cracked. She spun around and sprinted toward the exit. As she brushed past me, she tilted her head at an angle only I could see and flashed a triumphant, mocking smirk. She abruptly pitched forward, letting out a sharp wail as she caught her foot on a terracotta planter and slammed onto the concrete.

Nathaniel lunged forward on pure instinct, desperate to rush to her aid. But he caught himself at the last second, freezing in place as a nearby maid scrambled over to help Piper up.

It took him a long moment to speak, his voice dropping into a stern reprimand. "The result is the same as before.

But Piper, remember your place. Maeve is the true daughter of this family. When the day comes that the omen is good, you will leave.

And there will be no crying or throwing tantrums. This family owes you nothing."

Piper bit her lip, her practiced mask of grievance crumbling into an ugly wail as she ran out.

Nathaniel maintained a mask of cold indifference. He didn't run after her. But I saw the violent tremor in his fingers where his hand hung uselessly at his side.

You can't fake who you really care about.

Years ago, back when I lived with my adoptive brother Jaxon, I messed up. Jaxon punished me by making me stand at attention in the military compound under the scorching sun.

But he was terrified I'd pass out from the heat, so he stood silently right in front of me to block the glare. He pulled the exact same acta harsh, unyielding face, not saying a single word.

But when I lowered my head, I could see his fingers twitching with the urge to break protocol and comfort me.

At the dinner table.

The entire extended familyuncles, aunts, and cousinswere packed into the dining room.

Someone let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. "Piper is still out there crying under the eaves. She's going to starve if she doesn't eat."

Nathaniel ignored them, silently placing a piece of meat on my plate and ladling soup into my bowl.

Chapter 2

Nathaniel didnt even look up from his plate. "Leave her. If she doesnt want to eat, she can starve."

The chatter around the table died instantly. The rest of the meal dragged on in a suffocating, awkward silence. Honestly, it didn't feel much different from eating alone in my annex.

Piper and I were the exact same age, but she had been living with the Nathaniels since she was four. The family would never admit it out loud, but their bond with her was obviously lightyears deeper than whatever forced obligation they felt toward me.

As dinner wound down, there were only three pieces of sweet and sour pork left on the plattermy absolute favorite.

One of my aunts cleared her throat. "We should save the rest of the pork for Piper. She loves it. And it looks like Maeve has already had plenty."

Nathaniel shot her an icy glare. He reached across the table, grabbed the serving dish, and scraped the remaining pork directly into my bowl. "We aren't catering to her tantrums," he said, his voice flat.

Thats what he said, anyway. But after he put his chopsticks down, his eyes kept drifting toward the window.

When the maid gathered the kitchen trash and headed for the back door, Nathaniel finally broke his long silence. He stood up. "I'll take that."

The maid blinked in shock but handed over the garbage bags. As soon as Nathaniel walked out, the extended family splintered into small groups, chatting comfortably amongst themselves.

No one asked how I had survived the last seven years. No one cared if I was getting bullied at my new school. I stood in the middle of this magnificent, gilded mansion, feeling exactly like a homeless vagrant who had accidentally stumbled into high society.

They were all complete strangers to me. We had absolutely nothing to say to each other.

The hypocrisy of it all felt suffocating. I pushed my chair back and stepped outside to catch my breath. I wandered aimlessly until I found myself near the back patio.

Faint noises drifted through the chilly airthe muffled sound of Piper's pathetic sobbing, mixed with Nathaniels low, coaxing whispers.

I froze on the top step. The season's first snow had started to fall, dusting the courtyard in white. Nathaniel and Piper were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on a stone bench, sharing a takeout box of sweet and sour pork.

He lifted his hand, his palm gently brushing a few stray snowflakes from her hair.

Piper swatted at his chest, her eyes red-rimmed and brimming with grievance. "I'm about to get kicked out onto the street! Why did you even come out here?"

The push caught Nathaniel off guard, almost knocking him off balance, but there wasn't a trace of anger on his face. His eyes were soft, stripped of their usual defenses. It was a raw warmth, a stark contrast to the stiff, manufactured patience he forced himself to use with me.

He let out a helpless sigh. "Don't be stupid. You've been part of this family for almost twenty years. Do you honestly think I'd ever kick you out?"

Piper sniffled, burying her face into his shoulder.

Nathaniel picked up a piece of pork with his chopsticks and brought it right to her lips. "I had the head chef from the city's top restaurant make this specifically for you and deliver it. It's infinitely better than the trash the maid cooked up."

The lingering taste of the maid's "trash" suddenly turned to ash in my mouth.

Piper took the bite, her dramatic sobbing slowly tapering off.

Nathaniel lowered his voice, explaining it to her like a child. "Maeve isn't like you. She grew up on the streets.

She's never been loved, never had anything nice in her entire life. It was just a few pieces of leftover pork.

I gave them to her so she'd be happy. If she's pacified, she won't make a fuss, and you get to keep living comfortably in the main house."

So that was his grand strategy.

Over the last seven years, he had occasionally taken my side on trivial, meaningless arguments. I thought he was trying to be a brother. But he just thought I was some pathetic, starved stray. He figured throwing a few cheap scraps my way would make me so violently grateful that I'd willingly stay locked out in the cold forever.

But he was wrong. Before the Nathaniels tracked me down, I knew exactly what it felt like to be loved.

Down at the southern military base, I was looked after by all the neighbors and soldiers, just like Piper was here. My adoptive brother, Jaxon, was both a father and a brother to me. He never let anyone disrespect me or make me feel small.

The best dish on the table was always pushed directly in front of me. If the other kids on base had a new toy, Jaxon made sure I had it too. He lived a rough, gritty life in the barracks, but he never once forgot to buy me pink dresses and little cupcakes.

If it hadn't been for that sudden, devastating injury that took him out of commission he never would have handed me over to the Nathaniels.

I still remember what he told me back then. "Maeve, he's your biological brother.

Your actual flesh and blood. Your parents are gone. If you refuse to go back, he'll be completely alone."

"Besides," Jaxon had smiled, though his eyes were lined with exhaustion. "I'm sick now. If you go back to the Nathaniels, you'll have a huge family to keep you company. It'll give me peace of mind."

Chapter 3

That was how I ended up following Nathaniel back to the estate in the first place.

The family rules dictated the coin toss before I could move in. But Piper had rushed over, her face a tear-stained mess, sobbing, "If it's a good omen and Maeve moves in, I'll know my place and pack my bags immediately!"

Nathaniels hand had frozen on the doorknob to the study.

He went inside to cast the reading. The first time, he said it was a bad omen. The tenth time, still a bad omen.

Honestly, my pulse didn't even skip a beat. I was taken when I was three. I had zero memories of the Nathaniels, let alone any actual emotional attachment to them.

Back then, I just looked at him and asked, "Then can you just send me back to the base?"

Just a month prior, Mrs. Davis from the compound had promised to make her famous pot roast for the holidays. She told me to grab Jaxon from the barracks right after school so we could all eat together. I had been counting down the days. Instead, I was ambushed by these so-called blood relatives and dragged thousands of miles north to the city. I chewed the inside of my cheek, trying to mask my desperation as I waited for Nathaniel's answer.

But Nathaniel just walked over. He reached out, his grip on my wrist gentle, almost pitying. "Maeve, don't be upset.

We can cast the reading once a month. A good omen is bound to happen eventually. I'll set you up in the annex for now, and I'll come visit you all the time."

Then he added, his voice dropping a fraction, "I'll stay with you tonight. Mom and Dad are gone just keep your brother company, okay?"

A shadow crossed his face. For a second, he looked exactly like what Jaxon had describedcompletely alone.

Jaxon had warned me about this. Legally speaking, now that my biological family had claimed me, I wasn't allowed to live in the military compound with him anymore. Backed into a corner, I gave a stiff nod.

I transferred to a high school in the city, buried under a mountain of coursework. Nathaniel played the part of the perfect, attentive guardian. No matter how slammed he was at the company, hed personally endure the miserable, multi-day train ride down south with me a few times a year to visit Jaxon.

Aside from the convenient fact that the coins never fell in my favor, keeping me locked out and Piper securely moved in, I couldn't pick a single flaw in his performance for seven whole years.

But I wasn't an idiot. You can't run a con for seven years without the cracks starting to show. Eventually, the urge to peek through that study door and see those damn coins for myself became impossible to ignore.

Honestly? It wasn't even a shock. Once the illusion shatters, you see the rotting foundation underneath.

I snapped out of the memory, my eyes refocusing on the snowy courtyard.

The two of them were still huddled close together on the bench. Nathaniel had a terrible stomach and usually ate like a bird. Hed just finished a massive holiday dinner, yet half that box of takeout pork was already gone. I guess the old saying was true. Food just goes down easier when you're eating it with someone you actually want around.

I turned my back on the window and slipped inside.

The living room was loud, the extended family tossing back drinks and laughing. Not a single head turned my way. I bypassed them completely, heading straight upstairs to the guest bedroom they let me use, and slumped onto the floor by the window.

Outside, the sky was bruising purple, the heavy snow turning everything into a gray blur. It was ironic. The house was packed to the brim today, yet the chill in my bones had never been deeper.

I stared at my reflection in the glass, and for a second, Jaxon's face superimposed over mine.

It was New Year's Eve back then, too. He had poured himself a beer and slid a glass of soda across the table to me. Through the thick, savory steam of the hotpot, he clinked his glass against mine. "Happy New Year, Maeve. Stay safe for another year."

Everyone on the base thought he was terrifying. A stone-cold soldier with a resting murder face that made the fresh recruits physically shake. But to me, he was the safest place in the world. He always called my name with this deep, grounding rumble. Sometimes indulgent. Sometimes exasperated. Always his.

I picked up my empty water glass and tapped it against the cold windowpane, aiming for his reflection. "Happy New Year, Jaxon," I whispered.

Chapter 4

My knuckles brushed the freezing glass, and the illusion shattered. Jaxon was gone.

God, I missed him. It never snowed down south. He had probably never even seen a real snowfall.

I dragged myself away from the window, pulled a sheet of stationery from the desk, and started writing. But the pen just hovered over the paper. What was I even supposed to say? If I said I was doing great, it would be a lie, and I was a terrible liar. If I told him the truth it would just crush him.

After staring at the blank page for twenty minutes, I managed to scrawl out exactly two sentences.

"Jaxon, it's snowing in the city. It's beautiful. I'm going to pack a snowball in a cooler and bring it home for you."

I folded the paper, sealed it in an envelope, and walked down the street to drop it in the mailbox.

By the time I stomped the snow off my boots and re-entered the house, it was pitch black outside. The living room was still buzzing with the obnoxious laughter of the extended family. Naturally, not a single person had noticed I was gone.

Nathaniel and Piper were standing by the large bay windows. I couldn't hear what he said, but Piper doubled over, giggling hysterically.

I ignored them, heading straight for the stairs. But out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of what Piper was holding. It was small. And sickeningly familiar.

Ice flooded my veins. I whipped my head toward the bookshelf by the fireplace. The space where my clay figurine usually sat was empty.

Piper was clutching it in her manicured hand.

Years ago, a cultural heritage group visited the military base. Jaxon spent an entire grueling weekend learning how to sculpt clay just so he could make a figurine that looked exactly like me. I had kept it sealed in a tinted glass display case for years, terrified the sunlight would fade the colors or that dust would ruin it.

Now, that protective glass case was discarded on the coffee table like a piece of trash.

My heart seized. I closed the distance between us in three strides.

As I got closer, Piper's mocking laughter rang out. "It's seriously so ugly. It doesn't even look like Maeve."

Nathaniel chuckled warmly, shaking his head. "Alright, that's enough"

GIVE IT BACK!

Piper whirled around, clutching the figurine to her chest, her eyes widening in a flawless mask of innocent shock.

I lunged at her.

Before my fingers could even graze the clay, she gasped in mock terror and simply opened her hand. The figurine hit the hardwood floor. It didn't just break; it exploded into dozens of jagged, irredeemable shards.

The sound mirrored the violent explosion in my own head.

I saw red. My hand flew up, aiming straight for Pipers smug face.

This time, Nathaniel didn't even bother pretending to play the neutral older brother. Pure instinct took over, and he immediately yanked Piper behind his back, shielding her with his body.

He met my murderous glare, a flicker of genuine panic and guilt finally breaking through his composed facade. "M-Maeve, it was an accident. Piper just slipped. I'll get you a new"

Slipped? I have eyes.

"Get out of my way," I said, my voice lethal.

The raucous laughter in the living room died instantly. The silence was deafening. The aunts and uncles swarmed in, forming a human barricade around Nathaniel and his precious fake sister.

"Maeve, calm down!"

"It's New Year's Eve, for God's sake, don't start a fight! Piper obviously didn't do it on purpose!"

Every single one of them. Every single one of them was her shield.

I let out a harsh, bitter laugh. Without a second of hesitation, I snatched a cup of scalding hot tea off the nearest side table, reached right over Nathaniel's shoulder, and hurled it directly into Piper's terrified face.

Her shrill cry echoed off the high ceilings. I stared at the twisted faces of the Nathaniel family, a slow, cold smirk creeping up my face.

Chapter 5

I had people who loved me. People who actually cared. All the suffocating grievance and silent humiliation of the past seven years boiled over, twisting my stomach into tight knots. As Nathaniel stepped toward me, I swung my arm and delivered a vicious slap right across his face.

Nathaniel froze mid-reach, his hand still hovering in the air. The sharp crack seemed to short-circuit his brain.

My vision blurred with red-hot rage. "Why did you even bring me back?" I demanded, my voice raw. "If you never wanted me in your precious house, why did you drag me here in the first place?"

Nathaniel's pupils dilated. "Did you do you" His jaw tightened as the calculation clicked behind his eyes. He suspected I knew his dirty little secret.

But the peanut gallery of relatives immediately swarmed in to defend him.

"Maeve, the omens have just been bad! Your brother is more heartbroken about it than anyone."

"How can you say he doesn't want you home? Do you think he'd actually lie about the reading? Thats inviting a curse upon the family! Its impossible!"

Through the haze of anger, a dark, bitter laugh bubbled up in my throat. Inviting a curse? Well, he had lied about it a hundred times over the last seven years. I guess he was overdue for a hell of a lightning strike.

Honestly, what was the point of all this theater? He could have just left me down south. But no, he had to use this fake divination garbage as a seven-year smokescreen just to prove how much he cherished Piper. He cared about her so much that he locked his own biological sister out in the cold for seven years. I hadn't even been allowed inside the main house to see my own parents' memorial plaques.

It took Nathaniel a long moment to reboot. He must have finally convinced himself that I couldn't possibly know the truth. He looked at me, attempting to project helplessness. "I'll do the reading again soon. I'll get a good omen. I promise."

I met his gaze dead-on and scoffed. "Keep it. I don't give a damn anymore."

Nathaniels jaw went slack. Utter disbelief washed over his face. In his twisted mind, finally throwing me a bone and letting me into the house was some grand act of mercy I should be groveling for.

I ignored him, dropping to my knees to gather the shattered pieces of my clay figurine. There was no way to fix it, but I was keeping every last shard.

The relatives were still lingering like bad smells, whispering and throwing passive-aggressive jabs about my "attitude." I tuned them all out.

But Piper just couldn't help herself. She must have figured the boiling tea was the worst I could do. She shuffled over to me, crocodile tears welling in her perfectly lined eyes. "I'm so sorry, Maeve. Let me help you glue it back together."

She reached out and pinched a shard.

I snapped to my feet, snatching the piece right out of her manicured fingers. Then, without missing a beat, I slapped her. Hard. Just like I did to Nathaniel.

Piper practically threw herself backward in an exaggerated stumble. She conveniently crashed into my side table, knocking over a ceramic mug. It shattered on the floor, and she collapsed right on top of it, catching a tiny scratch on her forehead from a stray piece of ceramic.

The room erupted into chaos. The relatives shrieked, falling over themselves to rush to her side, propping her up and coddling her.

"Maeve, are you insane?!" an aunt snapped. "There was no need for this kind of violence!"

Nathaniel stared at the pathetic little bead of blood trickling down Pipers forehead. His expression turned ice-cold. For the first time in seven years, he dropped the act and actually yelled at me. "I told you I'd get you a good omen! There was no reason to take your anger out on Piper like this!"

The moment I laid a hand on his precious Piper, his fake, gentle brother persona went straight out the window.

Piper slumped on the floor, groaning weakly about feeling dizzy. Nathaniel's composure snapped. He scooped her up bridal style and sprinted out the door.

Even though that scratch was barely big enough to warrant a Band-Aid.

I stood in the middle of the trashed living room, watching them scurry away. I didn't cry. I didn't feel an ounce of sadness. I turned my back, marched straight into the bedroom, and yanked my suitcase out of the closet. I ripped open the wardrobe and swept every single cheap, patronizing dress Nathaniel had bought me over the last seven years directly into the garbage.

I guess Nathaniel had been right about one thing. Piper was a pampered little princess, and I was entirely different.

The rest of the extended family quickly chased after them. In the blink of an eye, the cramped house was completely empty again. Surrounded by the sudden, dead silence, my racing heart slowly leveled out. It felt a lot like what I had thought seven years ago, right when I first arrived.

Chapter 6

I didn't have any deep, lingering attachment to the Nathaniels or Nathaniel himself. Not really. Maybe over the last seven years, Nathaniel's meticulously crafted act of being a caring older brother had managed to stir something in me. The idea of blood ties, of finally having a real family again, had briefly given me hope.

But now I knew the truth. No one here actually wanted me around.

That was fine. Because now, I could finally leave.

I was officially an adult. I had finished my pre-med undergrad and was already starting my clinical rotations at the hospital. The law could no longer force me to stay under the Nathaniels' suffocating guardianship.

I thought about the letter I had just dropped in the mailbox.

I really needed to pack that snowball and go find Jaxon.

I couldn't stand being in this nauseating house for another second. I zipped up my suitcase, shoved my earbuds in, and blasted music to completely block out the memory of the Nathaniels' hypocrisy. I was leaving this hellhole tonight.

Suddenly, all I wanted was to go home. To my actual home.

I wanted to find Jaxon. I wanted to go next door to Mrs. Davis's house and eat the pot roast she promised me seven years ago. Jaxon always said soldiers never break a promise. Mrs. Davis was a military wife; shed keep her word too.

I carefully scooped up the shattered pieces of my clay figurine, placed them back inside the tinted glass display case, and clutched it tightly against my chest. Staring at the broken pieces, my eyes started to burn.

Seven years. This place had never been my home.

I grabbed the handle of my suitcase, held the glass case tight, and walked out the front door into the freezing night.

Once I made the decision to get on the earliest southbound train tomorrow, all the exhaustion, the bitter resentment, the crushing sense of injusticeit all just evaporated.

The only thing left was the buzzing anticipation of seeing Jaxon again. Of seeing all the people at the base who actually felt like family.

The unbearable isolation of the last seven years felt like a long, terrible nightmare that I was finally waking up from.

I walked down the long, snow-covered street. The city was alive with New Year's Eve energy, the sharp cracks of fireworks echoing off the buildings. A group of kids darted out of a narrow alley, laughing hysterically as they tossed firecrackers onto the pavement.

Every house I passed had its windows lit up, glowing with the warmth of family dinners and celebration.

On a night this perfect, I was the only one walking alone.

But then again, for the past seven years, I had always been alone.

My mind drifted back to the years before I was dragged to the city. Every New Year's Eve, the military compound was a chaotic, beautiful mess. Jaxon, this tough, battle-hardened soldier, had actually swallowed his pride and asked Mrs. Davis to teach him how to knit just so he could make me a bright red scarf for the holidays.

The teenage boy next door had managed to get his hands on some expensive new sparklers and sprinted over to give me half his stash.

Mrs. Miller from two doors down would lean out her kitchen window, yelling, "Maeve! Tell your brother I just finished frying the meatballs! Come over and eat!"

Then old Mrs. Henderson would shove her window open and yell back, "I called dibs on Maeve an hour ago! She's having sweet dumplings with me! Save your meatballs for later!"

I stopped walking and sat down on a snow-covered bench by the bus stop, staring up at the bursts of color in the night sky. The neighbor boy's smug voice echoed in my head. "See? I told you these sparklers were way cooler than the cheap ones!"

Couples and small groups of friends walked past me on the sidewalk, their arms loaded with shopping bags and takeout.

I watched them, my vision blurring until the strangers morphed into the people from the base. I could see them clearly in my mind's eye, standing in the distance, waving at me with bright, urgent smiles.

"Hurry up, Maeve! Dinner's already on the table!"

"Jaxon, what is your sister doing just standing there? She looks so skinny! Go grab her so we can feed her!"

And then Jaxon would smile, that rare, genuine smile, and walk toward me.

Through the blur of the falling snow, I watched him approach. His face came into sharp focus. He was wearing his olive-drab uniformthe one that always looked better on him than anyone else in the world.

He walked right up to me and crouched down, bringing himself to eye level. His face, usually carved from granite, softened the moment he looked at me.

I stared into his eyes, seeing the familiar, deep-rooted concern as he called my name. "Maeve?"

It was so strange. It was just a hallucination, a trick of the mind brought on by exhaustion and the cold. But why did it feel so incredibly real?

It felt so real that it just made my chest ache even more.

Chapter 7

I stared at his face, mere inches from mine. Snowflakes from the city's night sky still clung to the broad shoulders of his olive-drab uniform. My bottom lip started to tremble. A raw ache clawed at my throat. He closed the remaining distance between us and lifted a hand, gently resting it on the top of my head.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly. "It's New Year's Eve. Why aren't you at the estate? Why are you out here all alone?"

I thought my heart had long turned to solid stone, but the second I heard his voice, every single wall I had built instantly crumbled. I lunged forward and grabbed fistfuls of his uniform lapels, my knuckles turning white. The tears I had swallowed down for seven years broke free, smashing uncontrollably against the rough fabric of his coat. I clenched my jaw so hard it ached, refusing to let out a weak whimper, but I shoved him back with all the strength I had left.

My voice cracked. "They don't want me."

"You're a liar," I forced out through clenched teeth. "You promised you'd always take care of me. But then you got sick, and you just threw me away. You didn't want me, and the Nathaniels don't want me either!"

The hallucination stumbled backward from my shove, his boots slipping slightly on the icy pavement. He threw a hand out to catch his balance against the bus stop pole. The gentle indulgence on his face dissolved, replaced by a dark, gathering storm.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" he demanded, his voice thick with a dangerous edge. "You told me you moved into the main house. You said they were treating you perfectly."

My vision blurred completely. "Because I didn't want you to worry!" I choked out. "And I knew you wouldn't be able to do anything about it