Chapter 1
“Miss Nina, you need to get up!” A gentle voice shakes me awake.
I struggle to sit up and see Jan’s face. Jan is my maid/personal assistant. She has been with me since I was a teenager.
Soft morning light filters through sheer curtains, casting long shadows across my room. My room is white, which is not fun in the morning. My father let me design it however I wanted, but even with the gorgeous imported furniture, beautiful white carpet, and closet space that someone could live in, it didn’t feel like mine. The air is thick with the faint scent of lavender from the diffuser Jan always refills—it helps a little.
She places a tray on the nightstand: a creamy yogurt cup, a bowl of fruit, freshly squeezed juice. Everything is perfectly arranged, as always.
I pick up my tablet and check my schedule for the day as I pop a strawberry in my mouth. The juice drips down my cheek. Jan shifts beside me. I don’t have to look up to know she’s watching. I feel it—the weight of her stare, the hesitation.
“Something wrong?” I ask, my voice flat.
She exhales slowly. “I heard you last night, Nina.” Her voice is soft but firm. “You were banging your head against the wall.”
I freeze, the strawberry turning sour in my mouth.
“Are you okay?”
I set the fruit down and met her gaze.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Don’t tell my parents.”
I pick up my tablet again and keep scrolling.
She sighs, then nods and picks up last night’s dishes—barely touched, the cold chicken still sitting on the plate.
Jan worries more than my parents.
My mother is an investment banker in the United Kingdom, meaning she is gone most of the year.
At least she calls. My dad barely notices I’m alive. He is the owner of the best children’s cancer hospitals.
Jan is the only one who sees me, really sees me. And she worries because this isn’t new.
I close my eyes and let my thoughts drift. Sometimes, it feels like I’m drowning. My lungs are full, but I can’t get any air. I lie on the white carpet, trying to wait it out. Other times, my skin burns, heat crawling beneath it, pressure building in my head until I want to scream. I count the minutes until it stops.
The worst is when I lose time completely. When my grandfather died, I remember getting into my car, gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles went white. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in bed, an entire day missing.
Therapists tried to help. None of them did.
So my father opened a studio for me and bought me the house I live in, Karen Estate, so I could at least make a life for myself.
As I eat, the phone rings. It is my best friend, Jamie. We have been friends since we were kids. She is my ride-or-die.
“Hello!” I answer.
“Tell me you’re not still in bed. Actually, no—don’t tell me. I already know,” Jamie says.
I roll my eyes. “What about you?”
I roll my eyes as I put the cup of yogurt down.
“Are you?” I ask, knowing most of the time she is.
“No, because I have amazing news. I finally heard back from that school in Paris. I got in!” Jamie screams.
“Congratulations!” I say.
“Yeah, I know a year is a long time, but that just means I need to shop for an entire year’s worth of outfits!” she says, but I am stuck.
“Oh, I didn’t know it was for the whole year,” I say in a low tone.
“Yeah, I know it’s a long time, but I need this, love. You’ll make new friends while I’m gone, don’t worry,” she says in a relaxed tone.
But I am freaking out. Jamie has always been my favorite person since I was a child. We went to the same schools, did the same activities, and even went on vacations together.
She keeps talking, gushing about Paris, but her voice fades into background noise.
Because all I can think about is what happens when she leaves.
And how I’ll be alone.
″Anyway don’t fill up I invited a few friends for a celebratory brunch at my place.″ she squeals.
I almost choke on my yogurt.
″How many people are going to be there?″ I ask already feeling uneasy.
Jamie and I are opposites. She is a complete party animal and has many, many friends. It’s no wonder she went into hospitality she loves meeting new people.
″Oh, just a handful of people,″ she says casually.
″Jamie I can’t meet so many people at once you know that.″ I point out.
My hands have already started shaking.
″Look I promise I have only invited people you have met and will be by your side the whole time. You have to come, please? Jamie pleads.
I hesitate, my chest tightening. I haven’t been to a party in forever. The idea of it makes my throat tighten. But I don’t want to let Jamie down.
I force out a quiet, “Okay.”
