Her promise had been broken. Lenore had told herself she'd never come back, and yet here she was, standing in her mother's front yard, glaring up at the house. It had been several weeks since her grandmother's funeral, and in that time, a lot had changed.

Behind her, her father emerged from the back of the Tesla with a grunt. He had two oversized purple suitcases gripped tightly in each hand. The suitcases were shiny and new. Lenore had bought them for the move to San Francisco, but now...

"Dad," Lenore said, rushing to his side. "Let me help you!"

"Don't worry about it," her dad huffed as he dropped them on the bit of lawn that ran parallel to the driveway. "I've got it. That's the last of it, anyway."

"I can still help you carry them up to the house—"

"Lenore," came her mother's voice.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and Lenore whipped around.

Her mother was standing on the porch, watching them. She had a heavy-knit cardigan wrapped around her to keep out the early autumn chill.

"What now?" Lenore snapped, shooting her a sharp glare.

Her mother was unfazed. "You heard your father," she said. "He's got it. He can bring the rest of the bags up to your room. Why don't you come inside and start getting settled?"

"No thanks." Lenore turned her back to her. "I want to help." Really, she wanted to spend as much time with her father—and away from her mother—as possible, even if it was only a few measly minutes.

Her mother didn't say anything, but Lenore heard the snap of the screen door as she went back inside. Her mother wasn't going to stick around and argue.

Her dad gave her a dad-look. "I know you're angry with her," he said, wiping sweat from his brow, "but you really shouldn't make this more difficult for yourself."

"Who's making it difficult?" she scoffed. "She's the one who ruined my life."

He sighed. "Fighting her will only make things worse."

"Worse?" Lenore echoed with a sharp, harsh laugh. "How could things possibly get any worse?" Not wanting to stick around for her dad's rebuttal, she grabbed the closest suitcase and began hauling it toward the white house.

Thankfully, her father didn't say anything. He just took the other bag and followed after her.

Inside, her mother was waiting for them. She was leaning against the bannister, still wrapped tightly in the cardigan. Lenore realized that it wasn't much warmer in here than it had been outside. She had forgotten how drafty the house got.

Her mother watched her with careful eyes, tilting her head as if she was studying some undiscovered creature. Lenore marched over to her mom and dropped the heavy bag down right in front of her, narrowly missing her foot. Her mom stepped back and frowned, taken aback. Lenore only glared back in response.

Her mother just shook her head and pretended as if nothing had happened. "Is that everything?"

"Should be," her dad panted as he came in the door behind Lenore with the second bag, dropping it down beside the other one. "But if you forgot anything, Lenore, just let me know. I'm not leaving for San Fran for another few weeks so I can drive up and drop off whatever you need—"

Lenore felt her bottom lip wobble. "T-Thanks, dad." She turned and threw her arms around him.

"It's nothing," he said, patting her head. "It's the least I could do."

"You're going to have to head out soon," Amelia said, narrowing her eyes at him as if he was some kind of trespasser, "if you want to get back to the city before dark."

Lenore separated from her father enough to aim another glare in her mother's direction.

"I don't mind driving in the dark," Stanley said with a shrug.

Amelia was not convinced. "It's dangerous."

"It's fine," he said, annoyance creeping into his voice.

"Well, Lenore needs some time to settle in."

"No, I don't," Lenore interjected.

Her mother's attention turned to her. "I bet you do. I bet you're going to collapse the minute you get up to your room."

Lenore pulled back from her dad. Heat crawled up her face, and she had to grit her teeth to stop herself from launching into a screaming tirade.

Her dad nudged her. He saw the warning signs. "Don't," he whispered, giving her a tight smile. "You've already fought her enough. It won't do any good."

Lenore held her clenched jaw for a moment longer and then let the tension go. Her shoulders dropped as she slumped against her father again. He was right—screaming wouldn't achieve anything. She held tight onto his arm as if he might slip away.

"Maybe you're right, Amelia," Stanley said, sounding defeated. "Maybe I should just go."

Lenore's eyes prickled as they welled with tears. She blinked hard a few times to keep them at bay and tightened her grip on her dad's arm. She didn't want to let go. Letting go meant he'd leave, and she'd be stuck here with her mother.

Her father leaned down and pulled her into another hug, squeezing her tight. A tear escaped this time, sliding down her cheek.

"Remember," he said as he pulled away again, wiping her eyes with the corner of his sleeve. "This is just until you graduate, and then I'll put you on the first flight out to San Francisco. Just one semester."

Lenore nodded with a sniffle. "Just one semester," she repeated. It had become almost a chant, a spell to keep herself from falling apart. It was what she had been clinging to for the past month after she had received the news. "One semester."

"Exactly. One semester and then—"

"One semester?" Amelia cut in.

Lenore bristled at her mother's interruption. "Yeah, I've only got one semester left, remember?"

Her mother released an annoyed sigh. "No, you don't," she said like it should be obvious. "I told your dad the school district won't take all of your credits from your old school. You've got to take the whole year of classes."

It felt like an icicle had been shoved between her ribs, chilling her to her core. "What?" she gasped, her voice trembling. She glanced between her parents. "But you said—"

Her father's brow was folded in. He was just as confused. "You said they'd honour—"

Amelia looked annoyed like she had any right to be. "No, I said they'd honour Lenore's skipped grade. She still has another year to finish."

There was obviously no reasoning with her mother, so Lenore rounded on her father. "Dad!" she cried, desperate as if he might somehow be able to fix this.

"Sorry, Lenore I d-didn't—I don't—It must've gotten lost in the s-shuffle," he stammered. "Don't worry. We'll figure something out. I'll call them, see if there's some advanced placement or..."

"There isn't," Amelia interjected. "I've already looked. She has to do the whole year at the high school."

That sent another icy spike into Lenore's side. "Wait, AT the school?"

"Yes, you'll need to attend in person," Amelia said, exasperated now like she didn't get why this was all a big deal. "They don't allow remote education unless there are special circumstances. I already told all this to your father!"

Lenore was shaking now. Having to come to Eden to live with her mother while her father went to San Francisco without her was already awful enough. But having to stay even longer and attend school with the very people she had fled Eden to escape was a whole different level of hell.

As she stared daggers at her mother, Lenore realized she had been wrong. It could get worse. It could always get worse.

"Hey, don't look at me like I'm the bad guy," Amelia said, her whole body tensing up to defend herself—like Lenore might leap forward and attack. "It was the school district's decision, not mine. And anyway, it's not such a big deal, you'll still be graduating a whole year early."

"A whole year," Lenore said, her voice small and shaking. Tears filled her eyes, and this time, she couldn't blink them away. "A whole year..."

Her dad squeezed her shoulder, doing his best to give her a heartening smile. "A year is shorter than you think!"

The tears overflowed, streaming down her face, hot and inescapable. Her gaze sharpened once again as she turned it on her mother. This was all her fault. If she hadn't suddenly decided to seek custody, none of this would've happened.

"Why the hell did you even bring me here?" she snapped.

"You're my daughter," Amelia said like it should be obvious.

"And?" Lenore said. "Why should that matter now?"

For the first time, Amelia dropped her eyes, looking a little ashamed. "Look, I know it's been a while since we've spent any real time together," she said, "since I was so busy taking care of your grandmother after her stroke. But now that she's... Well, I wanted to see you again. Think of it as making up for lost time."

"Lost time?" Lenore mocked. Her dad squeezed her shoulder again like he was trying to remind her of what he'd said outside. She ignored him. "You had plenty of time. You could've called. You could've visited. You didn't."

"I-I know," Amelia said, her cheeks reddening. "It was... It was all very complicated. I couldn't just leave your grandmother and..." Her words trailed away. She looked up again, meeting Lenore's gaze. Her eyes were watery, hopeful even. "Don't I deserve to spend some time with my own daughter before she runs off to start a new life in another country?" Her mother gave a small, tentative smile.

It only infuriated Lenore. The skin of her face and neck felt like they might burst into flame. "No, you don't," she snapped. "Not now. Not after everything."

"But—" Amelia began, wincing back like she had been hit. Lenore didn't feel bad. This is what her mother deserved—to hurt just as much as she did.

"Lenore, wait," her dad said, trying to stop her.

But there was no stopping her now. Her anger bubbled up her throat like hot, hateful vomit. "Why should you get to ruin my life," she screamed, "just because you've decided you suddenly want to be a mother again?!"

She pulled away from her father and ran back out the door.