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Ellery’s hunched and withdrawn, her spark diminished. Her mother clearly has all the power in that dynamic. “There’s something off about that woman.”

“What do you mean?” Mom comes around the counter to stand at my side.

“I don’t know.” Which is the problem. “Forget it. I’ll see you later.”

On the sidewalk, I watch through the window. Her mom’s back is to me so I can’t see her face, but I see Elle’s. She curls forward, an inch at a time.

If there’s one thing I understand better than anyone, it’s the pull of duty and family.

Chapter 43

Ellery

“I don’t know why you came here, Mother. You’re wasting your time.” Except I’ve got both feet on the floor, and I’m smoothing down my skirt. My body remembers the choreography. I force myself to slouch. “I’m not going back to New York.”

Her face does that thing it does when she fires someone. “How long have you known that boy?”

“Long enough.”

She came alone. No Dad, no assistant, no one carrying her bag. I’ve never once seen her do that.

“Ellery, come home. Your father is waiting on you to join the business, and you have grad school.” She checks something on her phone.

“I don’t want the business. Give it to one of my cousins. Logan would do a great job.”

“Logan?” she says. “It can’t be Logan. There are responsibilities that don’t pass sideways.” She leans across the table and takes my hand. “I’m sorry we didn’t prepare you the way we should have. I never imagined you’d end up here, of all places.” She says it like it leaves a residue on her tongue.

I pull my hand away.

“You’ve only been here three months. You don’t know these people. You don’t know what they are.”

The clatter of the cafe goes quiet, or I do. Not too long ago, I would’ve dismissed a line like that from my mother. But I’ve sat in a room while the leaders of this town voted on whether I was allowed to keep my memory, and still might decide to take it.

Then Tess laughs in the kitchen doorway and the cafe comes back into focus.

My mother is being dramatic. She always is. It’s how she wins.

“I know what they are. They’re my friends.”

One manicured brow quirks up. She gives me a look I could sketch from memory. “Don’t be obtuse, Ellery. It’s beneath you, and we both know it. You’ve always felt it. That itch that there’s something more for you. This town, this life, is not where you belong.”

The thing is, I do feel like I belong here. I feel like this is a life that belongs to me. But she’s not wrong about the voice in my head, that feeling there was something more for me out there. She’s just wrong about what that is.

“You don’t know the first thing about me or my life.”

“I know more than you think. I always have.” She smooths her sleeve. “I let this detour run its course because I thought a little rebellion might do you some good before you had to grow up. But you’ve dug in, and now I’m telling you—it’s time to come home.”

“How did you find me?”

“You’d be surprised how few places are truly off the map. We have friends who owe us a favor or two.”

“I think you should leave.”

“We’ll sort your things and arrange a flight. We can be back in New York by morning.” She sniffs and checks the fastening on her purse, which does not need checking.

Saying no to my mother is like defusing a bomb. One wrong move, and she’ll find a way to twist my words. When I reach for my coffee, it rattles against the saucer. I fold both hands in my lap.

All I know is that Claire Ashford has to get on a plane and let me go. And the only person who can put her there is me.