As Anna’s car disappeared down the driveway, I stood frozen, my hands clenched into fists. My jaw tightened, and my thoughts churned. They weren’t supposed to be back until February—off gallivanting across Europe, living their best lives. Yet here they were, magically appearing just in time for the New Year’s party I hadn’t even told them about.
Something didn’t add up.
I turned toward the house, my chest tightening with frustration and suspicion. My parents didn’t do anything without an agenda. Their sudden return wasn’t a coincidence.
Storming up the steps, I pushed the front door open harder than necessary. The sound echoed through the house, but I didn’t care. My shoes thudded against the terrazzo floor as I marched into the living room, where they were casually unpacking their bags
