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“I can’t leave them. This is my life. I wish I could. You have no idea how much I wish I could.”

Dad’s deep voice, the same voice telling me to stand back up when I scraped my knees after falling off my bike before, stopped me in my tracks.

A loud rumble was in my ears and a voice inside me told me to run away, to not listen any further, because I’d regret it later.

But my body wasn’t responding. Instead, my feet carried me to the corner behind the chair and in front of the windows. The wind was very loud, like it was crying along with Father, like somehow, the entire world was very sad, just like how I was feeling.

“Is the money really that important to you? You married her for money, but you aren’t happy. I can see that. We can make you happy. Don’t do this to us, please.”

Father shook his head, stepping away from the crying lady, who was shivering, her arms curling around the little girl whose face was buried in her mommy’s waist.

“It’s over. If I weren’t a Kingsley and I didn’t need to keep the family name afloat, I would leave with you without a second thought. But I can’t. We can’t survive on love alone. I made my choice when I married her.”

I hiccupped, my mouth opening in a gasp. He’d leave us? Jess, Emily, and me? Didn’t he love us? What about us?

My heart twisted and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I wished I never came downstairs to look for Father. Was it because we weren’t good enough or smart enough ?

Father kneeled down and opened his arms and the little girl flung herself into him.

He hugged her back tightly and peppered kisses into her hair.

The girl was crying and for a moment she turned her head my way and stared at me through her teary eyes.

I shrunk back into the shadows, not wanting to get caught, and yet, unable to look away.

We were both sad but clearly for different reasons.

Father rubbed his hand on her back, and she buried her head in his shirt. A sharp pain hit my chest. He never hugged and kissed us like this.

She stole my hug.

I slammed my palm on the glass, a burning sensation inside my tummy, wanting to tear the little girl off him. That’s my father, not yours. Get away from him. But they couldn’t see me.

“Sweetheart, be good for your mommy. Take care of your sister for me. Don’t cry. I love you so much.” Father was sobbing again.

Headlights swiveled and cut through the darkness of the night. I heard a car door opening and a screech from Mother.

“How dare you, Robert? Bringing this woman here?” More screams and shuffling and another agonizing cry wrenched up from her. “You skank!”

I squeezed my eyes closed, tears dripping down my cheeks like a waterfall. There was no point in wiping them away anymore. My nose was runny, and I shook my head, my body finally obeying me, and I fled, running as fast as I could to my room upstairs.

I balled my test paper with my hands, and hurled it to the floor then stomped on it. Then, I climbed on top of my bed and hugged Fluffy, my special teddy bear, to my chest. The windows shook and rattled and lightning flooded the room with light, followed by the loud thunder.

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to calm down. I wasn’t afraid anymore. It was only scary sounds and bright lights. It didn’t hurt, not like my heart was hurting right now.

“How dare you, Robert!” Mother’s screams traveled through the closed door of my bedroom. “You promised me. You said you would stop. I gave you everything. How could you repay me like this? How could you love someone else when I love you?”

Mother then yelled a lot of words I didn’t understand, something about TransAmerica, Father’s company.

“Quiet down, Audrey. Steven is sleeping. And it’s over for good.”

Mother’s cries echoed in the halls and I buried my head in my blankets, not wanting to hear anything else. I wanted to escape, to find Jess and Emily or Nana. I didn’t want to be here.

“I-I love you, Robert. I gave you everything I could. Please don’t do this. Don’t break us up. What about our kids? They need you. We need you.”

Maybe Father didn’t give us hugs because his hugs belonged to that lady and the little girl.

Maybe we weren’t good enough to deserve his hugs.

Maybe we weren’t good enough to deserve his love.

I wished he’d love me.

The rumble of thunder crashed in the room again and the windows shook and shuddered.

But I wasn’t scared anymore. I wished my sadness would go away.

Perhaps Father has been right all along. We shouldn’t let our emotions get the best of us.

Liabilities. All of it.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

My eyes snap back open as I sit up, thankful for my phone to halt my trip down memory lane. My memories are spotty—I don’t remember their faces—only the face of my father. How devastated he was. How the tears streamed down his cheeks, even though the sky was also crying that night.

Sweat drips down my back and I fling off the thick comforter from my body. My heart races, the rioting in my chest relentless, and I bury my face into my palms. My fingers rake over my hair, damp from my fevered dream .

A wave of dizziness hits me, and I breathe through the nausea churning in my gut.

It’s in the past. Everything is fine.

A ringing reaches my ears and I turn off the market notifications on my phone—most likely information coming in from the Asian markets where it’s still daytime. I must have forgotten to silence my phone before I went to bed last night. Wincing, I glance at the time.

Three-thirty a.m. Fuck. Only two hours of sleep tonight.

The room is dark. Stifling. The wailing of the wind cuts through the silence. The faint glow of twilight seeps through the gap between the thick blackout curtains. Muffled sounds of cars and trucks from the streets far below filter through the double-paned windows.

My breathing slows from the hurried pants to its usual rhythm.

I’m in New York, not LA.

It’s all a dream.

A dream or fragments of memories I haven’t thought about in a long time. The past only reoccurs when storms rage outside.

Another notification chimes through and I glare at the screen.

I roll out my tense shoulders and swing my legs off the bed.

I trudge toward the floor-to-ceiling windows in my bedroom, turning the thermostat colder along the way.

My chest is still damp from exertion and droplets of sweat drip down the valleys of my muscles like I just ran five miles on the treadmill.

The burst of cool air greets me in a chilly welcome, and goosebumps soon form on my skin, but I like the shock to the system, the extreme temperatures chasing away the remnants of unease inside me, temporarily allowing me to forget the extra weight on my chest.

I whip open the curtains, staring at the city below me.

The buildings are lit up like stars in the skies, even though it’s impossible to see the skies at this hour in the dead of twilight.

From my windows, I can see trees swaying sharply to the wind—a storm is brewing on the horizon—but the city doesn’t bend to its will, the electrifying energy couldn’t be quashed, and the streaks of lights from cars hurrying to their next destinations, the illumination of tall buildings surrounding us, and even the glow of street lamps in the large expanse of Central Park below are all collective fuck yous to the bad weather.

Or bad memories.

This is why I love New York. It’s the place where if you get back up after you fall down, you still have a shot of winning the race, of conquering your demons.

It’s a place where only results matter, not the journey, and most definitely not emotions.

Letting out a ragged breath, I slide my hand over my face, my body exhausted, but my mind completely awake.

My mind floats to TransAmerica, to my father, who’s probably still awake in his office in LA, trying to figure out how to best protect the company. Inside sources told me Voss has approached some of the smaller investors. Easier targets, I suppose.

I should’ve stepped in earlier. Maybe if I had, Father wouldn’t be so worried right now.

Maybe if I had, he’d see me as worthy.

Gnashing my teeth together, my forehead drops against the cold window. It’s not too late. I’m Steven Kingsley, and I will win this. I will protect his legacy. He’ll understand then.

Another day, another race, another battle for me to win.

And hopefully, the famished beast inside me will be satiated, even if it’s only for a little while.