Chapter 1: Ashes and Betrayal

As I poked the fire in the old cast-iron stove, sparks popped and the kitchen filled with the sharp tang of burning pine. My phone was propped on the counter, its screen glowing with a waterfall of comments, like late-night Twitch chat buzzing in my ear.

[Wait, is she seriously about to torch her college letter? This is brutal. 💔]

Right then, Derek Rollins swaggered into the kitchen, an Amazon box tucked under his arm—oil stains, faded tape, the whole deal.

He dropped it on the counter and said, “Burn this. Just a bunch of junk.”

1

[Bro, that box has her acceptance letter. If she burns it, college is OVER.]

[She’ll be stuck taking care of Derek’s mom, while he runs off with the other girl to Maple Heights. They’ll even have a kid in secret. He only comes crawling back when he’s old and washed up.]

I stared at the comments, lost for a second. My hands hovered over the stove, fingertips tingling from the heat, like the shock you get when you realize the whole game’s rigged against you.

Derek nudged, “Come on, just burn it. It’s taking up space.”

I almost opened the box, heart pounding. Was this really just junk? Or was there something Derek didn’t want me to see? For a split second, I almost asked him. But old habits die hard—I swallowed my words and did as I was told.

His expression shifted, growing sharper. “It’s just some old paperwork of mine. You wouldn’t get it even if you looked. Just burn it.”

Like always, the moment Derek’s tone turned dark, I shrank back. My reflex was to retreat—like bracing for a winter storm you know you can’t stop.

I tossed the box into the stove. Derek finally left, letting the kitchen door swing closed behind him. The door swung closed, leaving behind only the echo of his footsteps and the dull hum of the fridge.

Once his footsteps faded, I quickly snatched the box from the embers. My breath caught, the sharp tang of ash and wood smoke stinging my eyes as I fished it out. Luckily, the stove was cold and Derek barely came in here. The kitchen was my only sanctuary—a place where things still felt like mine.

My hands shook so badly I almost dropped it again. There it was: the letter, bright red, my name in bold. For a second, I forgot to breathe.

Seeing "Natalie Quinn" printed there, a sharp ache squeezed my chest. It felt like the weight of the whole house pressing down, squeezing until I could barely breathe.

I hid the acceptance letter, slipped out of the kitchen, and caught voices from the living room. The old couch springs groaned, Derek’s laugh bouncing down the hallway—too loud, too fake.

"Mom, don’t worry. Natalie already burned her college acceptance letter. She’ll stay home and take care of you. I’ll take Aubrey to Maple Heights."

Derek’s mom dropped her voice, raspy from too many porch cigarettes. “Derek, honey, what if Natalie figures it out?”

Derek scoffed, not even glancing up from his phone. “She burned the letter herself. No one to blame but her.”

[Bruh, this is some next-level betrayal 😭]

[She suffers first, then he tries to win her back?]

[What’s the point? He gets the other girl, then runs back to her when he’s old and alone.]

[This is some Penelope waiting-for-Odysseus mess.]

My stomach dropped. It was all a setup. I’d never been more invisible in my own life.

So Derek never planned to take me to Maple Heights. I was just the built-in nurse for his mom. Not even family—just someone convenient to use.

After a tense silence, Derek noticed me in the doorway. He didn’t even look up from his phone, thumb swiping endlessly.

"Aubrey got into college, but her family’s too broke for tuition. How much money do you have left?"

“I don’t have any money.”

Derek paused, surprised. I’d always obeyed before. The silence felt thick enough to choke on, broken only by the distant ticking of the old hallway clock.

He sneered. “Aubrey’s got nobody else. You really gonna let her fend for herself?”

My heart twisted. I remembered the day of the flood—mud everywhere, sirens wailing, my dad’s arms around Derek as he dragged him to safety.

After saving Derek, my dad—exhausted—was swept away. He never resurfaced. The town still talked about him like a legend; his photo hung faded at the local VFW.