Chapter 2

The box of memories opened.

My grandfather was Nathaniel Chatwin, once the famous richest man in New York.

My mother was raised like something precious, and she met my father in college.

His family was poor, and Grandfather didn't approve of the match.

But my mother had made up her mind. She moved with him to another city, and the two of them built everything from nothing.

Starting a business was brutal. In just three years they owed over a million in debt.

That was when my mother got pregnant with me.

In the end, Grandfather couldn't bear to watch her suffer, so he brought my parents back to New York.

My father started as a department manager at the Chatwin company, and my mother went to teach at a university.

After Grandfather died, my father slowly gained control of the company, and my mother made full professor.

To everyone outside, we were the kind of family people envied.

But later I learned that my father had never stopped thinking about his first love.

He and that first love had never lost touch.

The year I turned fifteen, my father's first love got cancer.

Before she died, she called him to her bedside and begged him to adopt her daughter.

My father agreed, and he brought the girl home. Her name was Kathy Pruitt.

When my mother found out, she didn't make a scene. She even worried that Kathy wouldn't adjust to the new home, and she fussed over her, asking every day if she was warm enough, if she was all right.

Sometimes when Kathy and I fought, my mother would tell me to give in to my little sister.

When she heard this far, Fran brought me an order of french fries, and couldn't help asking,

“That adopted girl wasn't your dad's own kid, was she?”

I gave a small laugh and shook my head.

“No. I ran a DNA test on the quiet.”

“Kathy looked a lot like my dad's first love, so he doted on her.”

Fran asked again,

“So what happened after that? From the sound of it, your mom was pretty good to the girl.”

I picked up a fry and said slowly,

“After that, even my fiancé started taking her side.”

When Kathy first came to live with us, she didn't talk much, and she was timid.

She went to the same high school as me.

My boyfriend back then, Bryce Henson, hated her.

He said my father had gone too far, and that the first love had schemed too, deliberately dumping her daughter on us to cause trouble.

He said Kathy had a cold, creepy way of looking at people, and told me to keep my distance from her.

In college, Bryce and Kathy tested into the same school, which happened to be the university where my mother taught.

And I got into the top music conservatory in New York.

Back then Bryce swore up and down that he'd keep an eye on Kathy for me, make sure she didn't pull anything.

That first stretch of college, I was busy with competitions everywhere and practicing, and I didn't pay much attention to what was changing around me.

I didn't even know my father had arranged an internship for Kathy at the school.

It was only in the time before my birthday that I started hearing whispers, that Bryce and Kathy were getting close.

Back then I still believed him. I thought he'd never cross the line.

Until the day I turned twenty.

I came home and heard the sound of things being thrown in the study.

My mother was crying, shouting,

“You wanted to raise another woman's daughter, fine, I accepted it. Now you want me to take the fall for her? Have you lost your mind?”

My father's voice was worked up too,

“Kathy is only twenty. Her life is just beginning. Can you really stand to watch her go to prison?”

My mother cried like her heart was breaking,

“I want a divorce! We're done, right here!”

My father sneered,

“You think I ever wanted to marry you? If it weren't for your family's money back then, I would never have been with you at all!”

I stood outside the study door, and the cake box slipped from my hands to the floor.