Chapter 1
“Riley! Get up here!” Dad’s booming voice echoed down the cream-colored walls, shaking the carpeted stairs that marked the boundary between my quiet basement world and the rest of the house. Reluctantly, I set my worn fantasy novel aside—it’s magic useless now—and sighed. Tucking a stray lock of dark brown hair behind my ear, I ran out of my room and sprang up the stairs.
The rich brown wood of the main floor creaked softly beneath my feet as I passed the kitchen and stepped into the living room. “What’s up?” I asked, stopping by the black coffee table standing between our two white couches. Dad and Mom sat facing each other, like polite opponents in a quiet standoff, while my younger siblings, Dustin and Maya, wrestled with our two cats on the carpet.
Just a few hours ago, I’d burst out of school, thrilled that it was finally Friday. But Fridays meant softball for Mom and Dad. Both wore jerseys with ANISTON emblazoned across their backs, ready for another game. Mom’s team, part of The Collective—a mental health institute where she worked—played against other branches from nearby cities every week. Sometimes the matches were repeat encounters; other times, new fields awaited me, though I’d already been to most more than once. Lately, I’d opted out. Mid-October evenings stretched long and chilly; no matter the weather, I decided I’d rather avoid the cold and chaos.
But the sun was still baking Utah hotter than expected.
“Get dressed. You’re coming to softball with us,” Mom said cheerfully.
I stared at her, hesitating. I wanted to go, yet being forced made irritation prick my skin like static electricity. I opened my mouth to argue, but she cut me off.
“And don’t put on so much makeup, either.” She turned back to the TV, dismissing me without a second thought.
I huffed and slipped back down the stairs before they could change their minds. But instead of heading to my room, I paused before the bathroom mirror. My uniform was rumpled from a long day at the military academy—once crisp and ironed, now creased and tired. Glancing toward the stairwell to ensure Dad wasn’t lurking, I pulled a tube of mascara from my pocket, twisted off the lid, and leaned close to the glass. Folding my glasses, I set them on the toilet lid and carefully brushed each lash until they curled just right.
Satisfied, I clipped in my pearl earrings from Puerto Rico, slid my mood ring onto my right middle finger, and replaced my glasses. My reflection smiled back—a crooked grin, but mine.
In my room, I traded the uniform for a green spaghetti strap tank top and the star-patterned jeans Cadence had given me—baggy and comfortable in the best way. I threw on my black school sweatshirt and swept the front locks of hair behind my shoulders. Maybe my glasses looked a little nerdy, and maybe my nose wasn’t perfect, but right then, I felt good.
“Riley, hurry up!” Dustin’s voice floated down the stairs, followed by the slam of the front door.
I jammed my feet into my pink platform Converse, hopping up the steps while finishing the knots in my laces. Snatching a bottle of iridescent nail polish from the counter, I dashed outside, unaware of the wild night ahead.
Inside Dad’s truck, Mom wrinkled her nose. “What’s that smell?”
“Riley’s nail polish,” Maya tattled in a sing-song voice.
I had just finished painting the pinky on my left hand; my right still begged for attention.
“Why would you do that in a moving vehicle? So dumb,” Dad muttered.
Rolling my eyes, I pocketed the bottle as Maya blew a raspberry and Dustin snickered. I turned toward the window, watching the Utah landscape blur past, willing myself to ignore them. Tattling was routine, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.
Forming a plan, I angled my foot toward Maya and quietly drove my heel into her ankle.
She let out a bloodcurdling scream.
Mom and Dad immediately headed toward the bleachers beside the dugout after Dad locked the truck doors to greet their friends. Maya, still fuming, trailed behind them. “You’re mean, Riley,” Dustin said, sticking out his chin and following her. I brought up the rear, focusing on painting my other hand. For some reason, the neat, even strokes with the polish felt deeply satisfying. When I tilted my hand just right, sunlight caught the polish, casting flashes of blue and purple.
The adults’ chatter grew louder as I approached, mingling with the smoky aroma of meat roasting on grills nailed into the ground. I spotted Vivian, the softball coach and one of Mom’s friends, her blonde hair now cut short. I wondered if her three kids—five-year-old Lily, and older brothers Leo and Asher—were here too. Quickly, I applied the final coat of polish and slipped the bottle into my pocket, swinging my arms to help dry the finish.
Maya and Dustin ran along a fence bordering the field, heading toward the playground and a small building with picnic tables outside, sometimes rented for parties. They disappeared among the grassy space and a few climbable trees near the playground.
“Wait for me!” I called, chasing after them, my Converse clomping with every step. They shrieked with delight, pushing their little legs harder to outrun me. Maya was in third grade, Dustin in second; sometimes playful and lighthearted, other times fiery and fiercely competitive. They darted onto the playground, disappearing from sight, so I slowed and searched, peering through the metal bars.
The main playground stretched out before me—jungle gym, slides, and the “spinny-thing,” a cone-shaped contraption where kids clung to rope walls as someone spun it around. Nearby was a peculiar arch made of bubble-like plastic, each bubble filled with holes and small platforms inside to perch on. I’d visited this park many times, but the playground was new. Gone was the rusty swing set and monkey bars over woodchips; now the ground was covered with soft, fake grass.
“Riley! Come get us!” Maya’s voice rang out from somewhere inside. I looked up just in time to see her and Dustin duck behind bars, out of sight. I gripped the bars and hoisted myself onto the second level. A little red-headed toddler on the slide suddenly burst into tears—I must’ve startled him. “Sorry!” I called quickly, then peered over the railing. Maya and Dustin were on the ground, probably having slid down. They danced a silly victory jig.
“I’ll get you!” I promised, swinging over bars and leaping down. A tingling shot through my legs, but my siblings scattered. “Alright, alright, give me a break!” I called, circling the playground and settling on climbing the bubble arch next. Kneeling on a lower bubble, I caught the eye of a little girl inside a nearby bubble, playing with a Barbie doll.
“Hi, Lily,” I smiled.
“Riley!” Lily exclaimed, tossing down her doll. Since Lily was here, I figured one older brother might be nearby. I spotted him in another bubble, absorbed in his phone—Leo. Our eyes met for a moment. Lily climbed out, landing beside me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Maya and Dustin on the spinny-thing. Feeling reassured, I turned back to Lily.
She reached for my hand, guiding me to the spinny-thing. Just as I thought she’d climb on, Leo strolled over and slipped his phone into his pocket. Though I’d seen him, Asher, and Lily countless times before, I rarely interacted with Leo.
“Guess what? Leo is sixteen!” Lily announced. I glanced at him and laughed—definitely new information. Leo rolled his eyes playfully.
“Where are you going?” he asked Lily.
“Riley was going to help me get on this,” she said, pointing.
I raised my eyebrows but said nothing. That plan hadn’t come up before.
“Hey, what’s your name?!” I called to a boy in a pink shirt with an Air pod in.
“Liam,” he responded. I gave a thumbs up.
“Riley, spin us!” Dustin screamed as the spinny-thing stopped turning after a parent stopped pushing it. I grabbed the bottom platform and sprinted forward, pushing it hard. Letting go, I jumped clear just as it whirled. The kids hanging on shrieked with delight.
“Let’s play hide-and-seek,” Lily tugged my sleeve.
“Cool. Who’s it?” I tilted my head.
Lily turned and pointed at Leo.
