Chapter 4

I quit my job. My boss can't believe it and tries to talk me out of it, even offers me a raise.

I laugh. "I won the lottery. Ten million dollars. I think I'm good."

He shakes his head, half amused, half stunned, and signs the resignation papers.

Back at my apartment, I pack my bags. The first thing I did after claiming the prize was put a deposit on a beachfront villa in Cape Cod. It's everything I've ever wanted. Ocean views, quiet streets, salt air.

But before I leave, there's one thing I need to do.

My parents left me their house. A small place on the east side of Cambridge, close to MIT, close to Jack's department. Jack lived there for a while after they died, then moved out when he bought his own place.

I want to clean it up before I go. One last visit. Lock the door, say goodbye.

But when I get to the front steps, the smell hits me before I even reach the door. Trash bags piled up against the railing, reeking in the afternoon sun.

I assume it's the neighbors. I hold my breath, haul the bags to the curb.

Then I turn the doorknob and someone opens it from the inside.

A woman's voice, sharp and irritated. "Who the hell are you?"

I freeze. This is my house. Nobody is supposed to be living here. Jack moved out over a year ago.

The door swings open and cigarette smoke rolls into my face.

In the front hall, Mom's favorite vase is smashed to pieces on the floor. On the couch, a guy in a stained tank top has his bare feet propped up on Dad's coffee table, ash and burn marks all over the wood.

My whole body starts shaking. "Who are you? Why are you in my house?"

The woman crosses her arms. "Your house? I should be asking you why you have a key to my daughter's place!"

"This is MY house! Get out, all of you, NOW!"

I grab her arm and try to pull her toward the door, but she's bigger than me and doesn't budge. Instead, she shoves me backward and I hit the floor hard. My palm lands on a cigarette butt that's still burning. The pain is sharp and immediate.

"What the hell is wrong with you, you psycho?" the guy yells from the couch.

"Dylan, call Vivian. Tell her some lunatic broke into our place."

Vivian. Of course.

The rage almost swallows me whole, but one sliver of clarity breaks through. I pull out my phone with trembling hands and call Jack.

He picks up fast. His voice is bright, almost hopeful. "Molly? Did you change your mind?"

"Jack. There are strangers living in my parents' house. Did you know about this?"

Silence on the other end. Then, carefully: "I lent the house to Vivian. It wasn't a big deal. She had a falling out with her roommate and needed somewhere to stay."

I grip the phone so hard I'm afraid it'll crack. "You have ten minutes to get here and clean up this mess. Or I'm calling the police."

The woman lunges at me again. "You crazy bitch! You break into OUR home and YOU'RE calling the cops?"

"I don't care what Jack told you. This is my house. Get OUT."

Jack's voice goes tight on the phone. "Molly, please don't get into it with Vivian's family. I'm on my way. Just wait for me."

But the guy, Dylan, Vivian's brother, is already on his feet. He spits at my shoes and shoves me with both hands.

I grab his arm and bite down. Hard.

He screams. Blood seeps through the skin.

The woman shrieks and charges at me, fisting her hands in my hair. "You bit my son! I'll kill you!"

That's the scene Jack and Vivian walk into.

Me and Vivian's mother, tangled together, pulling and clawing.

Jack goes white. He rushes in and pries us apart.

"Molly! You can't treat your elders like this!"

Vivian runs to her mother, checks her over, then whips around and shoves me so hard I stumble backward.

"You touched my mom, Molly Donahue. You're going to pay for this."

I hit the floor again. Jack reaches down to help me up.

"Are you okay, Mol?"

I look up at him with blood in my eyes. I slap him across the face as hard as I can.

"Give me back my keys."