Chapter 2

Near dinnertime, I stood on a ladder beneath the leaking bathroom ceiling while cold water dripped steadily down my face.

"Emma?" Gavin called from below. "Is dinner ready?"

For four years, he had insisted that every dollar he had was invested in Hart Group. A housekeeper was out of the question, so I handled the chores and taught myself the repairs.

Once, while fixing a flickering light, I had nearly cut the wrong wire. The shock threw me to the floor, every muscle in my body seizing at once.

When Gavin came home that night, he held me with tears in his eyes.

"You've given up so much for me. As soon as this project pays out, I'll give you the best of everything. I promise."

Next time. It was always next time, the promise moving farther away whenever I came close enough to touch it.

"There's no money in the account," I called back. "So no dinner."

I opened the bathroom door with water running from my hairline. Gavin reached toward the tissue box, but Lily got to me first. Her face drained of color as she caught my hand.

"I'm sorry." Tears appeared almost at once. "This is because of me. I'm making both of you suffer."

"It isn't your fault."

Gavin pulled her against him. By the time he looked at me again, whatever concern had crossed his face was gone.

"You know how she feels about being a burden, especially now. You said that to hurt her. What is wrong with you, Emma?"

For four years, the mention of Lily's illness had been enough to make me yield.

I shifted my arm. Lily staggered backward as if I had shoved her, shook violently, then spat a mouthful of blood.

"Don't blame Emma," she gasped. "This body's useless anyway. I'm only a burden. Maybe I should go somewhere quiet and die alone."

Gavin snatched up a handful of tissues and wiped her mouth. He knew it was an act; still, his brow furrowed with concern.

Now I knew where the blood came from. A doctor in their circle supplied the capsules, and their friends gathered at another house for dinners I was never meant to know about. I had heard enough outside the boutique to piece together the rest.

Gavin turned to me. "Her condition can't wait. Since you upset her, sell the painting in our bedroom. We'll use the money for treatment."

My head came up. "No."

Before my father died, he had commissioned a famous European artist to paint a night sky for me. The moon was him; the single bright star was me.

Even when I'm gone, Emma, I'll be up there watching over you.

Nothing I owned mattered more.

"You promised," I said. "No matter how bad things got, you said you'd never touch that painting."

"And I promised Lily I'd save her life."

"Save her from what? She isn't even—"

Lily threw her arms around his neck.

"I really am a burden. Maybe I shouldn't have survived. Maybe I should've died with my parents in that fire."

She and Gavin had grown up next door to each other. When they were seven, he had gone to her house and begged to help cook. The gas range exploded that afternoon, killing both her parents.

The Harts became her legal guardians. She kept the Carter name, but Gavin had thought of her as a sister ever since—and had spent his life believing he owed her everything.

The moment she invoked the fire, there was no reaching him.

"How can you care this much about a possession?"

He shoved past me and strode into the bedroom. The wooden case holding the painting—one he had once built with his own hands—splintered beneath his grip.

He pulled out the canvas and tucked it under one arm. With the other, he drew Lily close, already turning toward the door.

"Gavin, don't."

I lunged.

The canvas tore between us.

Moon and star split cleanly apart.

Lily stared at me, eyes wide. "Emma, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—"

She bit down on another capsule. Red liquid spilled from her lips and soaked the inscription my father had written along the bottom edge.

"What are we going to do?" Her voice quavered. "My symptoms are back, and now the painting's worthless. If there's no money—Gavin, am I going to die?"

Something cracked across the room.

It took me a second to realize it was his hand against my face. The second slap split my lip and knocked me to the floor.

"Look what you did." Disgust flattened his voice. "If anything happens to Lily, I will never forgive you."

I lowered my head. At the edge of my vision, Lily smiled.

It hardly mattered. Her fake blood was spreading across my ruined night sky, and no matter how fast I wiped, the stain only sank deeper.

"You shouldn't have hit her," Lily murmured.

"You're too kind. She deserved it. How could she refuse you? You're family."

I sat back on my heels, tasting blood.

"If you need money, sell this."

I held up my left hand and pointed to the ring.

Gavin had made it when he first confessed his feelings for me, apprenticing himself to an old silversmith and spending three months on the design. I had worn it every day since and never let anyone else touch it.

He went still.

"Have you lost your mind? I made that for you. Our names are engraved inside."

Both sides of my face had begun to swell.

"I thought Lily's life mattered more than anything."

"Fine." His mouth hardened. "Don't regret it later. You'll never get another gift from me."

He seized my hand and wrenched the ring free, nearly dislocating my finger.

"I'm taking Lily to the hospital. I won't be back tonight."

The door slammed behind them.