Chapter 2

The country club glittered, a monument to money I' d only ever seen from a distance.

Chandeliers dripped crystals, and women in jewel-toned dresses laughed too loudly.

My dress, a plain blue cotton Elara helped me sew, felt like a spotlight.

Ethan found me quickly, his friends trailing him like overfed puppies.

"Enjoying the high life, Sadie?" he sneered, his voice carrying. "Or is it too much sparkle for your hillbilly eyes?"

His friends laughed. A woman nearby glanced over, a flicker of pity or disgust in her eyes before she turned away.

I clutched the little pouch in my pocket, the stone a small, solid weight.

He leaned in, his breath smelling of expensive alcohol.

"You know, everyone' s been asking who the charity case is. I tell them you' re my long-lost, dirt-poor sister. Adds a bit of drama, don' t you think?"

His words were meant to cut, and they did, old wounds reopening.

I remembered Dad' s booming voice, "Everything was fine until she came along!" after some minor business deal soured.

I remembered the hushed whispers, the way relatives would avoid my gaze.

Elara' s voice echoed in my mind, "Some folks are so busy lookin' for gold, they don't see the sunshine you bring."

Ethan gestured to a nearby table where a lawyerly-looking man sat with a briefcase.

"Dad and I have a little birthday present for ourselves, actually. And for you, in a way."

He grinned, a truly unpleasant sight.

"We' re making it official. Severing ties. You get to be free of us, and we get to be free of your... unfortunate influence."

He said "unfortunate influence" like it was a contagious disease.

The lawyer opened the briefcase, revealing a stack of documents.

My breath caught. Disowned. Officially.

A strange calm settled over me, pushing back the hurt.

I looked at Ethan, really looked at him – spoiled, cruel, and so very sure of himself.

"Ethan," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. "Some ties, once broken, can't be mended."

He scoffed. "Don't try to get sentimental. This is about protecting the family, the business."

"And luck," I added quietly, "luck runs in funny streams. You might be diverting more than you think."