And with my hand on the frame, I paused and looked back at him over my shoulder.

“Just remember one thing, Bryce.”

“What’s that?”

“Having the keys to something,” I said, “doesn’t mean you own it.”

The smirk slid right off his face.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

I didn’t explain it to him, then or ever.

He would learn the meaning of that sentence the way he learned everything about my life — too late, from someone else, and only once it had already cost him.