I almost laughed in his face.

I grabbed the agreement and blocked his path. "Trivial matters You mean fucking my sister so well she couldn't get out of bed counts as trivial matters?"

I slapped the folder against his chest.

"Take your dirty money and get out."

The words were barely out of my mouth when Sophia burst in. Her voice cut the air like broken glass.

"I never meant for any of this to happen. Do you have to say it like that?"

I looked at her without expression. "There's no room in this house for an ungrateful slut."

The tears were already falling. Reflex, at this point.

She lunged forward and grabbed my arm. Her nails bit into my skin.

"Charlotte, please. I was wrong, I was wrong, please don't throw me out—"

The old me would have forgiven her. No matter what she'd done.

Not this time. I shook her off in disgust.

"Don't touch me. You're disgusting."

Connor's voice sharpened. "Charlotte. Enough."

Then I noticed something on Sophia's collar.

A fountain pen, clipped there.

My father's fountain pen.

He'd used that pen for over twenty years. The lacquer was worn down in places. He'd refused to replace it.

After he died, I'd wanted to keep it.

But I couldn't find it.

I'd thought I'd lost it during the move. I'd blamed myself for months.

Sophia had even helped me tear the whole house apart looking for it. She'd told me, "Let it go, Charlotte. Uncle wouldn't want you this upset over a pen."

She'd had it the whole time.

"Who said you could take that." My voice cracked. I pointed at the pen.

The tears were still on her face. But her hand had let go of my sleeve.

Her lips started to shake.

"I just wanted something to remember Dad by..." Her voice wavered.

Dad.

She'd lived in our house for fifteen years. Fifteen years, she'd called him "Mr. Ashford." Not once anything else.

People had whispered about it. They'd assumed my father must have been hard on her.

Now he was gone.

And here she was. Calling him Dad.

Connor stepped between us, blocking me from her.

"She grew up without a father." His voice softened again. "Charlotte. Can you ease up a little?"

I didn't have the energy to fight him. I just reached out. I just wanted the pen back.

Sophia flinched back.

But Connor was faster. He caught my wrist.

"I told you to stop."

Something inside me broke.

I screamed at him. "She wasn't even at the hospital the night he had the heart attack! She never called him Dad while he was alive. Where the hell does she get off taking what he left for me?"

The color drained from Sophia's face.

Connor threw my wrist away.

"She was with me that night. The entire night."

"Connor." Sophia's voice cracked.

She tried to clap a hand over his mouth.

She was too slow.

After that one sentence, all three of us went dead silent.

I swayed. I grabbed the edge of the table to keep from falling.

So the night my father died, the night my mother and I held each other and sobbed, Connor (who said he was in a meeting) and Sophia (who said she was at school finishing a paper) had been in bed together.

I walked toward them, one step at a time. Like a ghost crawling up out of hell.

"What did I do to either of you. What did I do to deserve this."

Connor realized what had just come out of his mouth. His composure cracked.

"No, let me explain—"

I closed my eyes.

"Get out. Both of you. Get out."

Connor came at me. "You and your family always treated Sophia like dirt. Just because she lost her parents young, you bullied her her whole life. At first, I really did just feel sorry for her. Like a sister."

"Your father called me that night around ten. I didn't pick up. I figured he was just calling to lecture me about treating you right. Again. It was so fucking annoying."

I still remembered sitting outside the ER, dialing Connor's number seventeen times. He hadn't picked up once.

I'd been praying for my father. I'd also been terrified something had happened to Connor.

And Sophia.

Those weren't sobs of grief on the phone. She'd been moaning.

Something inside me died.

"That was the last call he ever made. And he made it to you."

Connor watched the color drain from my face. Now he was starting to get it.

"Charlotte, I'm sorry, I." He couldn't finish the sentence.

His voice made me sick. My hand came up to slap him before I could think.

Sophia threw herself between us, arms wide.

"Charlotte, hit me. Don't blame Connor. It was me. I was the one who threw myself at him. I wouldn't let him leave."

Her arm swung. The pen fell out of her pocket.

I lunged for it. Too late. I watched the nib hit the floor and break.

I dropped to my knees and wrapped it in my handkerchief.

Then I stood up and slapped Sophia across the face.

"Charlotte?"

She stared at me, hand pressed to her cheek.

She'd asked for it. I'd just given her what she asked for.

Connor's face shifted. Every trace of guilt was gone. He turned on me.

"Over a pen? You hit your sister over a pen?"

I remembered the day of my father's funeral. Connor had held me for a long time. He'd said, "It's okay, Charlotte. I'll take care of you the way your dad would have, from now on."

Sophia's voice came from behind him, wet with tears.

"Connor, my face hurts so much."

"Am I going to scar?"

It was a tiny scratch. My fingernail had caught her cheek.

But the moment Connor saw it, every ounce of concern he had went to her.

"You're going to be fine. I'll take you to the best doctor in the city."

He took her hand and led her out.

He didn't look back. He just threw one last line over his shoulder.

"You shouldn't have done that. She's been through enough already."

I stood there staring at my red, stinging palm.

Been through enough.

I'd given her the best of everything since we were kids. The drumstick at dinner. The new pens our mother had just bought. The presents our father brought back from his trips.

Whatever she wanted, I gave her.

And the one thing I never could have given her, my fiancé, she'd taken too.

That night I went to see my mother at the hospital, like every night.

I heard a familiar voice in the stairwell.

I stayed in the blind spot. I watched Connor cup Sophia's face in his hands, his thumb stroking her cheekbone. Then he kissed her. Hard. Almost punishing.

"If I hadn't come to the hospital to corner you, were you just going to avoid me forever?" His voice was low. "You know I love you. So why do you keep pushing me away?"

Sophia pushed him back. Her eyes were red. She sniffled.

"Because she's my sister. And she loves you so much. I can't steal her happiness." Her voice trailed off.

Connor gripped her shoulders. "And what about your happiness? After how she's treated you, you're still thinking about her? You're not afraid of losing me?"

Sophia bit her lip. Then she threw herself against his chest and clung to him.

She was shaking.

"Don't. Don't leave me. Don't abandon me. Not like Mom and Dad did."

Connor's arms tightened around her.

"I'll never leave you."

What a joke.

Connor had sworn the engagement was still on. But the first time he'd shown up at the hospital, it was for her.

They were holding each other one wall away from my mother's hospital bed. Telling each other they were in love.

The Sophia who used to stand in the cold for three hours to get me the cupcake I liked. That Sophia was gone.

The Connor who used to kneel down to fasten my shoes. That Connor was gone.

I opened my email. The job offer I'd been planning to turn down was still sitting in my inbox. I sent the confirmation.

It was over.

It was time to leave.