“Of course,” Mrs. Lannister said. “Let me grab my car keys, and I’ll take you.”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” I blurted. “Roy’s almost here to pick me up.” Roy was my foster dad—who I wouldn’t call even if I were being chased by literal assassins. “I’d better hurry, or he’ll start honking the horn.”
Modeling might’ve been in my future, but acting definitely wasn’t. Mrs. Lannister’s expression became more heartbroken the longer I rambled. By the time I was done, I knew she knew the truth: Tonight was the end of Laney and me.
Suddenly, I was wrapped in her arms in the fiercest goodbye hug of my life. No words. Just an embrace so tight, so motherly, it almost did me in. She took me by the hand and led me to the door. Then she pulled the phone from her pocket and pressed it into my hand, along with a charger. “You may as well take it. It’ll just get tossed into some drawer here and forgotten.”
I stared at her offering, blinking back tears.
“It would make me feel better if you had it,” she whispered like she was afraid Laney was listening upstairs. “In case of emergency.”
I glanced at Mr. Lannister, and his apologetic expression told me he knew what was happening, too. Mrs. Lannister must’ve told him about earlier.
“Thank you,” I whispered to them both, swallowing the rest of what I wanted to say.For everything. For the phone. The warm meals. The movie nights. The trips to In-N-Out. The board games and the way nobody made me feel like a guest. Thank you for letting me feel like a part of your family. “Just…thank you,” I repeated, almost a rasp.
Then I hurried out the door and into the sweltering Las Vegas night.
Then, and only then, did I cry. And cry and cry and cry. Out there in the dark, alone, I let myself feeleverything. I criedfor the unfairness. For the absence of everything normal. For parents who loved me. For siblings to bicker with, but who were secretly my best friends. For roots that kept me grounded. For someone to give me wings, with the promise they’d catch me if I fell.
I wiped my cheeks, trying to pull myself together. Crying hadn’t fixed a single thing in my life yet. It wouldn’t start now.
As I turned up the street to my foster family’s apartment complex, Laney’s voice rolled through my head.It’s too bad you can’t be a model…It’s really only for people who, you know, have money and stuff…Also, you never see red-haired models.
A burst of anger and determination ripped through me. The hurt turned to fire, and the first dream on my list became a vow.
I was going to be a supermodel, no matter what it took.
But not just any supermodel. I’d be so big and untouchable that Laney would choke on my supermodel dust.
And Iwas going tomarry Griffin Dupree.
We’d meet someday when I least expected it. By then, I’d be so intoxicating it would be game over the second he laid eyes on me. We’d have a house full of redheaded babies, and we’d be disgustingly happy together.
Take that, Laney.
I laughed. Then I took off for home. As soon as I got to my room, I used the light from my new phone to add two carets to my list.
I crawled onto my lumpy mattress next to Emry and pushed away the fear of whatever tomorrow might bring. Even if my new foster family was the worst yet, I only had four years left in the system. After that, it was full steam ahead.
I pressed a kiss to Emry’s soft cheek, flipped onto my back, and made myself an Instagram account. The very first person I followed was…
Not Griffin Dupree.
Because his account was private.
His profile pic was a cartoon firefighter, and yes, he had like sixty thousand followers. But he’d never posted a single time, and he’d only followed fifty-six people in return.
Fifty-six.
Either he was extremely selective, or he’d forgotten he ever made the account in the first place.
I chewed my lip, determined to be strategic. To save my follow for when it really counted—after I’d made a name for myself. Not right now, where I’d be another thirsty sycophant he never followed back.
But I still wanted to hear his voice. No, Ineededto hear it. Daily.
So I followed Liam and Cash instead.
Chapter One
