Chapter 2: Homecomings and New Games

We had a week off before filming, so I went home.

The second I pulled into the driveway, the scent of fresh-cut grass and barbecue drifted through the air. It felt like summer in the Midwest, even though it was only spring.

“Grandma!” I ran into my grandmother’s arms, her face lighting up with a huge smile.

She squeezed me tight, her perfume—Chanel No. 5, always—lingering on my jacket. Her laugh was warm, like home.

“You little rascal, how long’s it been since you came to see Grandma?” She tapped my forehead.

She had that look—half stern, half soft. The kind of look that made you want to confess everything, just to see her smile.

“It hasn’t been that long—just ten days or so.”

I grinned, knowing she’d pretend to be offended.

“Ten days, huh? Heartless kid.”

She pinched my cheek, but her eyes sparkled. My mom and sister-in-law laughed nearby, shaking their heads at our usual routine.

They stood at the kitchen counter, prepping for dinner. My mom tossed me a wink, mouthing, “You’re in trouble now.”

When my family heard I was home, my dad and all three brothers came back for dinner.

It was a full house—voices echoing, kids running through the halls, someone always yelling for the dog to get off the couch.

My mom scolded my oldest brother, “You’re always out and about, never home. If it weren’t for your sister coming back, we’d never see you.”

He shrugged, flashing his trademark crooked grin. “Work’s been nuts, Mom. You know how it is.”

He grinned. “Well, Brooke’s the family favorite, after all.”

He nudged me, and I stuck my tongue out at him. My brothers always loved teasing me about being Grandma’s little princess.

“Aunt Brooke, come play in the backyard with me tomorrow!” my seven-year-old nephew, Sammy, tugged at me. “Nobody else will play with me!”

He looked up at me with those big puppy eyes, clutching his favorite stuffed dinosaur. I ruffled his hair.

“Of course, Auntie will play with you all day!”

He cheered, running off to brag to the other kids. I felt a swell of pride—I’d always been the cool aunt.

Sammy’s “backyard” was an amusement park my family built on the hill behind our house, just for me. When I was little, I loved carousels and trains, but Grandma thought public parks were too crowded and unsafe, so she built one at home.

It was the stuff of small-town legend. All the neighborhood kids wanted to come over. My brothers used to joke that I was the original influencer.

It even had a name: “Brooke’s Wonderland.”

There was a wooden sign at the entrance, painted in rainbow colors. Every birthday, Grandma added a new ride or a fresh coat of paint. It was the best present a kid could ask for.

When it was finished, it made the local news. People called me the happiest kid ever.

The old newspaper clipping is still framed in our hallway—me in overalls, grinning on the carousel, front teeth missing.

“Your contract’s up in three months, right? Not renewing?” After dinner, my oldest brother asked while making coffee.

He leaned against the counter, swirling his mug, watching me over the rim.

“Yeah, I’d rather write novels.”

I shrugged, hoping he’d understand. He always did—my oldest brother was the only one who got it.

He nodded. “About that Madison at your agency—are you sure you want to let her off the hook? Want me to handle it?”

He said it so casually, like “handle it” meant changing a flat tire. I laughed, knowing he was half-serious.

“It’s fine, I’m leaving anyway. And I don’t care about the stuff she stole.”

He raised an eyebrow, but let it go. He knew I hated drama.

He chuckled. “Still so nice. All right, I’ll respect your wishes.”

He ruffled my hair, just like when we were kids. “You’re too good for this world, sis.”

My second brother chimed in. “What’s this about taking action? Brooke finally toughened up and wants to fight back? How about I just buy your agency?”

He was always the joker—except he actually could buy a company if he felt like it.

I laughed. “You talk about buying a company like you’re buying a burger at the drive-thru.”

He smirked, tossing a coffee pod into the Keurig. “What? I like burgers.”

“Easier than that,” he said, dead serious.

He winked at me, and I shook my head, grinning. My brothers were ridiculous, but I loved them for it.

“Thanks, guys. If I ever need you, I’ll let you know!”

I meant it. My family always had my back, no matter what.