Side character.

Months later, Paige’s reunion text arrived. After the laughing emojis, I went silent. In my family, silence is mistaken for surrender.

Paige built her fantasy without me.

A Facebook event appeared: Family Beach Bash. My house as the cover photo. Location: Bella’s beach house.

Guest list: siblings, parents, church friends, coworkers, random plus-ones. Ethan and Milo weren’t listed.

In the comments, someone asked about sleeping arrangements.

Don’t worry about Milo, Paige wrote. She’s sensitive. Probably better if she stays with Ethan’s parents. She hates the beach anyway.

My mom reacted with a heart.

Another asked if Milo was coming.

We’ll invite her for a day trip, Paige replied. Bunk rooms are for the real cousins.

Real cousins.

I screenshotted it. Called my mother.

“We knew you’d say yes,” she said breezily.

“I saw the comments about Milo.” Silence.

“They were jokes,” she said.

“They weren’t funny.”

“Either let us use the house or don’t,” she snapped. “But don’t villainize us.”

“You’re doing that yourselves,” I said, ending the call.

The first thing my body did after hanging up wasn’t relax.

It braced.

Not for physical danger—I’d done that plenty—but for emotional fallout. The kind that tightens your jaw, locks your shoulders, fills your stomach with cold metal. I could handle hemorrhages and swelling brains. This was different. This was a family that treated love like a debt.

“Mom?” Milo called from outside. “Can I hang the hammock?”

“The one Grandma said is a fire hazard?” Ethan smirked.

I laughed sharply. “Yes, kiddo. Anywhere you want.”

Her shoulders dropped. She looped the straps around two posts, tongue pressed between her teeth in concentration. For the first time all week, she wasn’t bracing for rejection.

My phone rang again.

“Dr. Carter,” the guard said, voice tight but professional. “They’re refusing to leave. One attempted to force the gate.”

“That’s not how gates work,” I said dryly.

“No, ma’am. They’re claiming legal rights since it’s ‘family property.’”

“It’s in my name,” I said evenly. “Zero rights.”

“Do you want me to call local PD?”