Page 20

MIA

For a second, I wonder if this isn’t all a fever dream. The letter, my parents—all of it.

But then my mom hugs me, and I know : It’s real.

Her scent wraps around me at the same time her arms do. Sea salt and oranges, like the breeze that blows in from our backyard. “M-Mom? How…?”

“Goodness, how you’ve grown!” She kisses both my cheeks, then steps back to look at me. “And you’re still the spitting image of your great-grandmother. Oh, if only she could see you!”

“Let our girl breathe, Doris.” Another voice—my dad’s. “Isn’t it time for your meds anyway? Ginny, dear, won’t you?—?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

The last voice belongs to my sister, Eugenia.

Her auburn curls finally come into view. A wave of nostalgia crashes over me. “Ginny?—”

“Save it.” She fishes out a pill box from her bag and heads to the kitchen without so much as a glance at me. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t absolutely have to. After all, you left us.”

Her words land like the backhanded bitch slap she intended them to be.

My mom’s expression turns severe. “You shouldn’t talk to your sister like that. You know she had her reasons.”

“All I know is she fed us a sob story about the town’s most respectable man secretly being a monster.

Wasn’t that convenient? ‘Oh, no, he’s onto me; I have to leave,’ blah blah blah.

Too bad there weren’t any cameras—the Academy would’ve been proud of that performance.

” Her eyes rove around skeptically. “Hey, weren’t you supposed to be pregnant?

‘Cause I sure as hell don’t see a kid anywhere. ”

For a second, I’m speechless. Convenient? Performance?

Then fury takes over.

“He’s in school, Ginny,” I growl. “What did you expect? It’s Wednesday morning.”

“I expected a couple more toys lying around, that’s for sure.”

“We literally just moved in!”

“Yeah, right. Like I said: convenient.”

She grabs a glass of water and hands it to Mom, along with a round, red pill.

Shock grips me at the sight.

Beta blockers? Since when is our mother on heart medication?

No—since when is she on any meds at all?

“Here,” Ginny says. “Bottoms up.”

Mom is still eyeing her with disapproval, but takes the glass and the pill. “Thank you, dear. Now, please apologize to your sister.”

“What sister?” She scoffs at me. “That’s a perfect stranger. What’s that name you’re using now? Mia Summers or something?”

“ Winters .”

“Right. Guess the movie star route didn’t take.”

“That’s enough, Ginny,” Dad barks. “You’re stressing out your mother. You know what it does to her heart.”

“Remind me, when did she start having those heart problems? Oh, right. Around five, six years ago, was it?”

My own heart clenches. Guilt floods me like never before. Five, six years ago— that’s when I left. When I cut off all contact so that Brad could never find me.

Tears start welling in my eyes. I try to speak, but the words don’t come. And what could I even say? I’m sorry? Sorry doesn’t cut it. Not for something like this.

My oath swims before my eyes: First, do no harm.

But I did do harm. I broke my mother’s heart—literally.

“What?” Ginny crosses her arms. “Nothing to say?”

“I—”

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

I blink. Suddenly, Yulian has stepped between us, his hand outstretched in greeting. On the face of it, he looks polite and courteous.

But his tone is as cold as hell itself.

I watch Ginny shrink on herself. Not by a lot, but enough. “Right. And who are you supposed to be?”

“Yulian Lozhkin.” He shakes Dad’s hand first, then Mom’s. Finally, he gets to Ginny. “Mia’s partner.”

“Lozhkin?” My dad’s eyes widen. “ That Lozhkin? From StarTech Industries?”

“That’s me.”

“Oh, please,” Ginny hisses. “What’s next? She’s got the Tooth Fairy in her pocket?”

“Eugenia Sophia Collins, stop embarrassing yourself,” Mom scolds her. “He was on Forbes, remember? 40 Under 40. That’s him, alright.”

Ginny takes a better look. Suddenly, her eyes widen, cheeks coloring with shame.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Collins,” Yulian says, but his voice hasn’t gotten one bit warmer. “Like I said, I’m Mia’s partner, and the father of her child.”

Ginny gives him the quickest handshake in the universe, as if Yulian’s hand could burn her. “Father?” Her brow knits. “Wasn’t that Brad?”

“Her other child.”

“Bullshit,” Ginny scoffs. “There’s no crib, no?—”

“You’re pregnant?” Mom asks, her voice filled with wonder.

I drop my gaze to my belly. “Yes,” I whisper. “Baby’s due in June.”

She throws her arms around me again. “Oh, that’s wonderful, honey!”

My dad pats me on the back, a huge grin on his face. “Well, well. Looks like we’re going to be grandparents again, huh? Though I’d love to meet our first grandkid someday.”

Their love floods me. For the first time in years, I feel whole. “You will,” I croak. “I promise.”

“Ahem.” Ginny clears her throat. “As lovely as this whole reunion is, shouldn’t we address the elephant in the room?”

“The elephant in the room?” I ask.

“Don’t worry, Sis, I didn’t mean you. You haven’t fattened up that much yet, though I’m surprised your ass isn’t bursting out of those shorts.” Yulian’s gaze narrows at Ginny’s jab, but she doesn’t seem to realize how close she’s courting danger. “I’m talking about the house.”

“The house?” I frown.

“Yes. Specifically, the one the bank just took from us.”

I freeze. “The bank…?”

“How dense can you be?” She rolls her eyes and fishes out an open envelope from her bag. Great—another letter. “Here. See for yourself.”

I’m about to take it, but Yulian beats me to it.

He doesn’t open it, however. Not yet. Instead, he keeps glaring at my sister.

“Well?” Ginny asks, swallowing her anxiety. “Is there something on my f?—”

“You are Mia’s family,” he cuts in. “That means you are all welcome here anytime.”

“Great. That’s good to?—”

“But as long as you’re under my roof, you will treat her with respect.” His voice drops dangerously low. “Are we clear?”

Ginny’s gaze darts to our parents for support. When it finds none, her jaw sets, lips pressed into a thin, trembling line.

“Crystal,” she bites out.

“Good. Then you can all take a seat.”

I’m stunned. No one has ever defended me like that—not since Yulian snatched Brad’s wrist out of the air the night of his wedding and made him regret every ugly word he shot my way.

He still has my back. The realization sinks in slowly, like honey into warm milk. Despite everything that’s happened, he still leaps to my defense.

And yet I’m still keeping things from him.

Torn by my guilt, I sit down with the rest of my family around the coffee table. The mere concept of us in the same space feels like the beginning of a joke: Four Collinses walk into a room…

Collins. I haven’t called myself that in ages.

Ginny clears her throat. “As I was saying, the bank took the house. It was all very sudden. Apparently, some mortgage payments haven’t gone through this year, but no one told us.”

“Some?” I ask.

“Er, all of them.”

Mother of— “How could that happen?” I burst. “Mom and Dad had the payments set to automatic withdrawal!”

“We think it was a blip from the bank’s system.

” Dad sighs. “But they didn’t care to hear us out.

The money’s gone, and wherever it went, it’s not in our pockets anymore.

There are no statements, either, so we can’t prove we ever paid.

We’re fighting it, of course, but in the meantime, no one will rent to us with this hanging over our heads.

” He presses a hand to his temples, as if this whole conversation is giving him a major headache. “Ginny, dear, could you pass me the?—?”

“Yep.” She hands him a single-dose sachet of nimesulide. He’s taking migraine meds, I realize. “Want some water with that?”

“No, thank you, dear.” He pours the contents under his tongue and swallows with practiced ease. “Now, where were we?”

“Bank left us homeless.”

“Right. That.”

“But they can’t do that,” I cry out. “The house—it’s ours.”

“Not anymore,” Ginny says. “Not according to these papers.”

“But—”

“Can I see that?” Yulian cuts in.

I blink. Ginny does, too. “Sure,” she says, though not without an edge. “Knock yourself out.”

Yulian’s eyes scan the document. It only takes him a minute to read through all of it. As a businessman, he must have seen countless papers just like it.

“The document’s legit,” he says. “But this bank isn’t to be trusted. It’s not the first time they’ve ‘accidentally’ misplaced client funds to sell the property to the highest bidder.”

My eyes go wide. “You mean my family’s being scammed?”

“I believe so.” He folds the paper neatly and hands it back to my parents, not Ginny. “Is there a construction project going on in your area? Something big?”

“Well, yes,” Mom frowns. “There’s that Baldwin Resort, but?—”

“Brad wouldn’t do that to us,” Ginny scowls. “In fact, he’s the only reason we aren’t on the streets right now. He told us how to reach you.”

My senses go on high alert. “Brad did?”

“Yes, dear sister. The so-called villain of your story. Funny how that worked out, hm?”

“You shouldn’t trust him.” My fists close around the hem of my shorts. “Brad is— He’s a monster.”

“Well, he helped us,” Ginny doubles down. “And you didn’t. So forgive me if I don’t take your word for it.”

Yulian rises from the couch. Everybody’s gaze follows him, worry creasing every face in the room.

But all he does is hand my father a business card. “There’s an address here,” he says. “A spare apartment of mine in the Upper East Side. It’s fully furnished and big enough to accommodate all of you. My associate will meet you here in an hour with the keys.”

… Wait, what?

Dad stares at the business card in his hands, his shock matching mine. “That’s very kind, but we can’t possibly accept?—”

“I insist,” Yulian says. “You’re Mia’s family. That means you’re my family, too.”

My father hesitates. He’s always been a proud man—proud of his work, proud of his life. Proud of the family he provides for.

But pride isn’t going to save him. It isn’t going to save any of them.

Yulian, however, is.

“Dad,” I whisper. “Please, let us do this for you.”

Something softens in his expression when he hears me say “us.” He reaches out and pats me on the shoulder. “Alright,” he says, then stands. “In that case, we are very much in your debt, Mr. Lozhkin.”

“Please.” Yulian shakes his hand again. “Call me Yulian.”

“Yulian, then. Thank you for your kindness. I hope we’ll have a chance to meet again soon.” When I stand, too, he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “You, too, baby girl.”

“We’ll make a date to meet the little one, yes?” Mom says, teary-eyed. “And when it’s time, the littler little one.”

“Of course,” I rasp. “Whenever you want.”

Ginny rolls her eyes. “Yes, yes, and we’ll spend every Christmas, Mardi Gras, and Midsummer’s Eve together, too. Can’t wait. Shall we hit the road?”

I watch them go with a heavy heart.

Once they’re in the elevator, I shut the door and lean against it. “Thank you,” I whisper. “I know I sound like a broken record, but?—”

“They’re family.” Yulian’s tone brooks no argument. “Family helps each other. You don’t need to thank me for that, Mia.”

My expression softens. “I can’t apologize or thank you? How am I supposed to show my appreciation?”

“Like this,” he whispers, and kisses me.

It’s brief, chaste. A soft brush of lips and nothing more. And since I can’t say “thank you,” I do the next best thing.

I kiss him right back.