My stepmother called me at the end of the day, her voice so smug I could practically hear the smile on her lips, and told me that from now on I would never be allowed to set foot in the family beach house again because she had already changed every lock.

“What do you want from me now?” he asked. “I want the truth about whether you tried to sell this house,” I said.

He did not answer me. “There was some discussion about it,” he finally muttered.

“Cassandra’s graduate program is very expensive,” he added. I laughed in disbelief at his words.

“So you were going to sell my mother’s house to fund Victoria’s daughter’s life,” I said. “It is not as simple as that,” he argued.

“It is exactly that simple, Harrison,” I replied. “You decided that my distance in Philadelphia meant abandonment,” I added.

He leaned forward and looked at me with intensity. “You don’t understand the pressure and the fights these past few years,” he said.

“And what did you say to her?” I asked. “I said we should talk to you first,” he whispered.

“But you didn’t do that,” I noted. I stood up and looked down at him.

“You will leave this house right now,” I told my father. “You will tell Victoria that any further contact goes through Lydia,” I added.

“And if you touch one more object that belonged to my mother, I will drag every secret you have into the daylight,” I warned. He stared at me as if trying to find the girl who used to back down.