Chapter 2

The moving truck pulled away before Aria even got out of the car.

She stared up at the house.

White walls. Huge windows. A door that probably cost more than her old apartment's rent for a year.

"It's a lot, I know," Dad said, killing the engine. "But you'll get used to it."

She didn't answer.

The front door opened before they reached it. Victoria stepped out, smiling so wide it looked like it hurt.

"You must be Aria."

She pulled her into a hug before Aria could decide whether she wanted one. She smelled like jasmine and something expensive.

"I'm so happy you're here. Really."

"Thanks," Aria said, because what else was there to say.

Inside, the house smelled like fresh paint and flowers someone had bought just for today. Everything was bright and open and too much. Too clean. Too big. Too perfect.

It didn't feel like home. It felt like a magazine spread.

"Cayden!" Victoria called up the stairs. "Come say hi to Aria!"

A pause.

Then footsteps. Slow. Unhurried. Like he had somewhere better to be and was choosing not to go there yet.

He came down the stairs in a gray hoodie, hair slightly messy, phone in one hand. He looked up.

And stopped.

For half a second, something flickered across his face.

Then it was gone, replaced by an easy, lazy smile. The kind that probably worked on everyone.

"So you're the new sister."

He said it like he was testing the word, seeing how it tasted.

"Step," Aria said flatly. "Not the same thing."

His eyebrows lifted slightly. Like he hadn't expected that.

"Cute," he said, and there was nothing in his tone that said he meant it as a compliment.

Victoria laughed, oblivious.

"You two are going to get along so well."

Neither of them said anything to that.

Daniel and Victoria disappeared into the kitchen, already talking about dinner plans, furniture, next week we should all — their voices fading into easy chatter, like this was already normal.

Aria grabbed the handle of her suitcase.

"I'll show you your room," Cayden said, not quite looking at her. "Since apparently that's my job now."

"I can find a room by myself."

"It's at the end of the hall. Next to mine."

He started up the stairs without waiting.

"Try not to get lost in the seven seconds it takes to walk there."

She followed him anyway. Mostly because she had no idea where the stairs even led.

The hallway upstairs was lined with framed photos. Victoria and Cayden at the beach. Victoria and Cayden at some gala. Cayden in a varsity jacket holding a trophy, grinning like he'd never lost at anything in his life.

Probably hadn't.

He stopped outside a door and pushed it open with two fingers, stepping back just enough to let her see inside.

The room was bigger than her old one. A bed already made. A desk by the window. Boxes stacked neatly in the corner — her stuff, already moved in by someone else's hands.

"Nice view," he said, nodding toward the window. "You can see the whole neighborhood from up here."

"I'm not into knowing everyone's business."

"Sure you're not."

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her step inside like he was waiting for a reaction. A gasp. A thank you. Anything.

She set her suitcase down. Looked around. Said nothing.

His easy expression cracked, just slightly.

"You're really not going to say anything?"

"About what?"

"The room. The house. Any of it."

"It's a nice room."

She walked past him toward the window, not looking at him again.

"Thanks for showing me. You can go now."

For a second he just stood there.

She could feel him still in the doorway. That specific kind of attention — the kind that meant someone was staring and hadn't decided to stop yet.

It annoyed her more than it should have.

"Most people are a little more grateful," he said slowly, "when someone's being nice to them."

"Is this you being nice?"

She glanced back.

"Could've sworn that was you being bored."

Something shifted behind his eyes. Not quite annoyance. Something closer to interest.

He pushed off the doorframe and took a step into the room. Slow. Easy.

"You're going to be fun," he said. Not a compliment. Almost a warning.

"I wasn't trying to be."

"That's what makes it funnier."

He was close enough now that she had to tip her head back slightly to keep looking at him. Close enough that she noticed, annoyingly, that he smelled like cedar and something clean.

She didn't step back.

That surprised him. She could tell.

"Goodnight, Cayden," she said, and reached past him to push the door.

He caught it. Held it open with one hand, looking down at her, that dangerous half-smile still in place.

"Goodnight, step-sister."

He said the word like it was a joke between them. Like he already knew it wouldn't stick.

Then he let go and walked off down the hall, hands in his pockets, like none of it mattered at all.

Aria shut the door.

Hard.

She stood there for a long moment afterward, staring at the wood grain.

Her heart was doing something it had absolutely no business doing.

She hated that too.

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