Chapter 1

Celina Brewer's eyes snapped open.

Her vision blurred. Her fingers dug into the scratched wooden surface of the diner counter. The wood splintered under her short nails, but she didn't feel the pain.

She gasped for air. Her lungs burned, expanding and contracting violently as if the thick, toxic smoke from the fire was still trapped inside her chest. A harsh cough ripped through her throat.

"Celina? Are you sick?"

Peggy O'Malley, her coworker, walked over with a glass coffee pot in her hand. Peggy's face was young, vibrant, and completely unscarred.

Celina stared at Peggy. Her heart hammered against her ribs so hard it made her teeth ache. She reached out with a trembling hand and grabbed the cheap paper calendar sitting next to the cash register.

The year and the date stared back at her.

She was seventeen again. It was the exact day the Hayes family was coming to take her to New York City.

The memories hit her like a physical blow. The sound of her stepbrother breaking her legs with a golf club. The smell of gasoline. The suffocating heat of the flames. Celina bit down on her lower lip. She bit hard, right until the metallic taste of blood flooded her tongue.

Outside the diner, the low, heavy growl of a powerful engine cut through the quiet street.

A sleek, black Bentley slowly pulled up to the curb. It looked like an alien spaceship parked against the backdrop of the decaying Rust Belt town.

Celina turned her head. The confusion in her eyes vanished, replaced instantly by a layer of absolute, freezing ice.

The driver's door opened. Gary Finch stepped out. His expensive leather shoe landed right on the edge of a muddy puddle. His face immediately twisted into a deep scowl.

Gary opened a large black umbrella and pulled open the rear door.

Elvie Mcconnell stepped out of the car. She wore a custom-tailored Chanel suit. She looked around the rundown street, her perfectly drawn eyebrows pulling together in a tight knot. She pulled a silk handkerchief from her purse and pressed it against her nose, acting as if the very oxygen in this town was contaminated.

Celina stood behind the counter. She watched her biological mother. The last microscopic shred of hope she ever had for a mother's love turned to ash in her chest.

"Wow," Peggy whispered, following Celina's gaze. "Someone important must be really lost."

Celina didn't answer. Her face was completely blank. She reached behind her back, untied the knot of her stained diner apron, folded it neatly, and placed it on the counter.

"See you, Peggy," Celina said. Her voice was low and steady.

She grabbed her faded, washed-out backpack from the hook and pushed open the glass door of the diner.

The bell above the door chimed.

Elvie's eyes instantly locked onto Celina. She scanned Celina from head to toe. She took in the cheap, oversized t-shirt and the ripped jeans. The disgust in Elvie's eyes was so thick it was almost a physical weight.

Gary stepped forward. He looked at Celina like she was a criminal in a lineup.

"Are you Celina Brewer?" Gary asked, his tone clipped and hard.

Celina ignored him completely. She walked straight toward Elvie but stopped three feet away, maintaining a cold, calculated distance.

Elvie lifted her chin. She looked down her nose at Celina.

"I am your mother," Elvie announced. Her voice was sharp. "I am here to take you to New York City. You will have a good life now."

Elvie waited. She waited for the tears, the excitement, the nervous fumbling that any poor girl from a trailer park should display.

Celina just nodded. "Okay."

Her tone was flat. There was zero emotion. She sounded like a cashier confirming a drink order.

Elvie's jaw tightened. A flush of embarrassment crept up her neck. This was not the reaction she wanted. Her authority felt challenged by this teenager's deadpan stare.

"Get in the car," Elvie ordered, her voice dropping an octave. "Right now. I don't want to spend another second in this dump."

"No," Celina said.

"Excuse me?" Elvie snapped.

"I need to go back to the trailer park," Celina said, her voice unwavering. "I have to pack my grandmother's things."

Elvie's face turned red with fury. "Those pieces of trash do not belong in the Hayes estate! Get in the damn car!"

Celina's eyes sharpened. She stared directly into Elvie's eyes.

"If I don't get my bags, I am not going to New York," Celina said. Her voice was ice.

The memory of dying in that exact Bentley flashed in her mind. Her stomach churned with physical nausea. She took a half-step back, shifting her weight, ready to turn and sprint down the alley if she had to.

Elvie saw the absolute resolve in Celina's eyes. She glanced down at her diamond-encrusted watch. She didn't want to cause a scene in this filthy neighborhood.

"Fine," Elvie hissed through her teeth. She turned to Gary. "Drive behind her. Get the bags."

Celina turned her back on them. She started walking down the street as the dark clouds above began to roll in. A cold smile touched the corners of her mouth.