Chapter 3: The Terms of Surrender

Speaking of my older sister, her fate was truly tough.

Every family has one—the golden child, the one whose loss leaves an echo. I could still hear her laughter in the quietest corners of the house, see the way sunlight hit her hair just so when she helped me with homework, even though she never had to ask for help herself.

She was gentle and beautiful, kind and thoughtful. Even though we didn’t spend much time together, she always treated me well.

There was a warmth to her presence—a patience I always admired. She’d sneak me chocolate bars when I visited, and she never forgot a birthday, no matter how busy she was. I’d always felt like her little shadow, following behind, hoping to catch a bit of her shine.

My brother-in-law is Daniel McAllister, heir to the McAllister family in Silver Hollow—good-looking, smart, and currently serving as deputy county clerk.

Daniel always had that too-perfect-to-be-real air: pressed shirts, polished shoes, a handshake that could win elections. Folks in Silver Hollow respected him, but sometimes I wondered if anyone really liked him.

Their marriage was a perfect match, with two sweet kids—a family everyone envied.

At every Fourth of July picnic, they looked like a photo out of a local magazine—Natalie perched on her dad’s shoulders, Caleb tugging at his mom’s dress, the envy of half the county.

But Sis was frail, and early last year, a bout of pneumonia took her life.

It hit fast and left a hole nothing could fill. I still remember the smell of disinfectant in her hospital room, the way she squeezed my hand and tried to smile as the machines beeped. By spring, she was gone.

Now, with Daniel’s mourning period over, the McAllister family reached out, hoping to keep the connection with our family.

Small towns never let you forget what you owe each other. Their version of keeping ties was businesslike—measured conversations over lemon bars and coffee, as if they could negotiate away the emptiness.

Mom was originally against it, knowing me well—knowing I’d always been independent and didn’t want to live in some big family house.

She used to joke that I was too wild for Silver Hollow, that my Flagstaff roots made me restless. She knew that McAllister traditions would chafe at me like a starched collar on a summer day.

But the two kids my sister left behind weighed too heavily on her mind.

She’d wake up at dawn, fretting over their future, worrying about strangers raising them. Some debts are paid in sleepless nights.

Now the McAllister household is complicated: Daniel’s mom is in poor health, and the house is run by his stepmom, Mrs. Lee.

It was the sort of setup that made Thanksgiving dinner a minefield—too many cooks, not enough warmth. Mrs. Lee ran the house like a drill sergeant, but with the warmth of a DMV clerk.

Mrs. Lee also has a son, two years older than Caleb, and she loves to show off.

Connor’s the type to flash his new sneakers at every chance, lording it over the younger kids with the smug confidence only a spoiled child can muster.

The two kids my sister left behind are always kept in their own rooms, looked after only by nannies, growing more timid and withdrawn.

I heard stories from the staff—Natalie drawing by herself in the corner, Caleb hiding under the table to avoid being scolded. Even their laughter seemed rationed.

If a stepmom came in, things would only get worse for them.

Small towns have long memories; stepmoms have bad reputations. Everyone knew the gossip before I’d even set foot in the house.

After a lot of thought, I still couldn’t walk away. It’s just ten years, after all.

I figured: ten years is a long time, but it’s not forever. Maybe I could give them enough stability to build on, before getting back to my own life.

Ten years from now, Natalie should be grown and Caleb will be a teenager.

I pictured them: Natalie with her mother’s grace, Caleb with a bit of my stubborn streak, both ready to face the world without training wheels.

By then, I’ll be twenty-six and can go back to Flagstaff.

Back to the red rocks, wild air, and a life that’s just mine again. If I survived this, I could survive anything.