“Lily! I’m leaving in five minutes, with or without you!” My father called from downstairs, his voice edged with impatience.
Reluctantly, I closed the last suitcase. I glanced around the now-empty room, a hollow ache forming in my chest. This room had held all my posters, paintings, and pictures. It had been my sanctuary when sadness overwhelmed me, the haven I ran to after a long day at school. Now, it was just four walls stripped bare, echoing with absence.
My father was forcing me to leave London—my beloved, vibrant hometown—to move to Holmes Chapel with him. He’d met a woman through work, and was marrying her. I hadn’t met her, and I didn’t want to. I mean, I wanted my father to be happy, but my mother had died only two years ago. The thought of some stranger attempting to replace her felt…wrong. A betrayal.
Rain lashed against the car window as we drove toward our new home. My father continued to talk about “Anne,” about how much he loved her. I tuned him out, retreating into my own thoughts. I was instantly pulled back to reality when I heard the word “children.”
“Wait…Anne has kids?” I asked, a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach. I’d heard too many stories about cruel step-siblings.
“Yes. A daughter, Gemma, and a son, Harry. Harry is your age, and Gemma is older. They’re really great kids.” My father said proudly.
He couldn’t ignore me for them. Who did they think they were, barging into my life? It was bad enough he left me alone every other weekend to visit Anne. This wasn’t going to be fun.
Three hours later, we pulled into the driveway of a reasonably sized house. My father quickly jumped out, hauling our suitcases toward the door. I stayed in the car, staring straight ahead. What if Anne was a horrible woman? What if her children were nasty, and my life turned into a modern-day Cinderella story? This sucked. Life had been good once. I had friends, a mom, a dad, and a home I loved. Now, everything felt…opposite.
My father was already inside, apparently forgetting I existed. I couldn’t stay in the car forever, so I slowly dragged myself to the front door and stepped in.
“Lily! There you are! Come and meet everyone!” My father said cheerfully.
He pulled me into the kitchen where three other figures stood. I avoided eye contact, hoping to remain invisible.
“Hi, Lily! I’m Anne. I’ve heard so much about you!” A dark-haired woman said, pulling me into a hug. To my surprise, I felt a little less rigid when I realized she didn’t seem evil, and her hug was surprisingly comforting.
“Nice to meet you,” I murmured quietly.
We pulled apart, and she gestured to a girl with long, dark hair and a pretty face. “This is Gemma.” Gemma waved sweetly.
Then Anne turned to the last person. “This is my son, Harry. He’s your age.” I looked at him, and my breath caught in my throat. He was giving me a smirk, but it was a disarming, captivating one. I couldn’t tear my gaze away. His green eyes were flecked with gold, and dimples dented his cheeks. His floppy curls were a mess of charming chaos.
I couldn’t possibly have a crush on my soon-to-be stepbrother, could I?