Chapter 3

Something flickers across Drew's face. Surprise. Then it's gone, replaced by that pinched, irritated look.

"Sloane. I'm swamped right now. I don't have time for your drama."

I hold his stare.

His voice drops, soft and cruel.

"You really want to break up this week? You don't want your mom to have her surgery?"

My eyes go wide. I can't believe he said it out loud.

He squeezes my shoulder like nothing happened.

"Come on. Quit pouting. Go sit with Sienna. She got hurt because of you—it's the least you can do."

My stomach turns. I shove his hand off and run.

I make it as far as a stairwell before my knees give out. I crouch in the corner and try not to sob loud enough to be heard.

Two nurses pass by in the hallway, gossiping.

"Dr. Langston is so sweet with his girlfriend. I've never seen him freak out like that."

"You know her uncle is Deputy Chief? The Chief loves Drew. Set for life."

The pieces click into place so fast I feel sick.

Sienna's uncle is the Deputy Chief of Medicine.

That's why Drew changed.

Sienna's the golden girl with the right family. Drew's the rising star with the perfect résumé. From the very beginning, I was the ugly stepsister wedged in between.

I don't know how long I cry.

Then my phone rings. Drew.

"Where are you?"

His voice is heavy. My stomach drops.

"What happened? Is it Mom?"

Today was her dialysis appointment.

He pauses. "Just come home. Now."

I'm up before my legs are ready. I almost fall down the stairs. I call Mom three times—straight to voicemail.

I call Drew back—straight to voicemail.

My heart is hammering against my ribs. I run the whole way home and pound on our door.

Drew opens it. Completely calm.

I push past him into the living room.

Sienna is curled up on my couch, swinging one foot, perfectly relaxed.

"Where's my mom?" I gasp.

"Your mom's fine," Drew says. He nods toward the guest room. "Sienna's gonna recover here. Go clean out the guest room for her."

My mouth falls open.

Sienna giggles.

"Drew said if I told you it was an emergency, you'd come running."

Drew's lips twitch. He hands her a glass of juice without looking at me.

"Drink your juice, princess."

Then, he tosses over his shoulder, "Game's on in an hour. Finish the room and you can watch with us. Don't say we never include you."

I'm still trying to breathe. My phone buzzes.

[Mom: Sorry honey, was in my appointment. What's up?]

I look down at the message and laugh. Quietly. To myself.

She's fine. That's all that matters.

I walk into the guest room and shut the door. The TV blares to life behind me, two voices already arguing about lineups.

I don't pick up a vacuum. I don't change the sheets.

I pull a bag out of the closet and start packing.

They're so wrapped up in the game they don't notice a thing.

...

The next few days, life carries on.

Drew and Sienna eat the same meals. Sleep on the same schedule. Watch matches at 2 a.m. and ice her ankle together at sunrise.

For two years he complained every time I got home late from sitting with my mom.

Now? He's all smiles. Whistling around the kitchen. Bringing Sienna smoothies.

The less I come home, the more of her things appear in the apartment.

Her shampoo in our shower. Her sweater on our chair. Her toothbrush in the cup next to his.

When Sienna sees the matching mugs Drew and I bought on our anniversary, she throws a tantrum until he buys her an identical set.

"Sloane and I have been best friends since we were six," she pouts. "If anyone gets matching anything with her, it's me. Who are you, exactly?"

Drew rolls his eyes and calls her impossible. Then he drives across the city all day to buy her every matching thing she points at.

When I get home that night, I find my slippers shoved to the very back of the closet. His and hers slippers sit neatly by the door, side by side.

Like a set.

I stare at them for a long moment.

Then I reach into the closet, pull out a pair of cheap guest slippers, and drop mine in the trash.

It doesn't matter.

Mom and I are leaving soon anyway.