Chapter 1

My mother, Sarah, set a cup of tea on the coffee table in front of me. The clink of ceramic against wood was too loud in the quiet living room.

"Chloe, honey, your father and I need to talk to you about something important."

I looked up from my laptop, where I was finalizing the details for my summer internship. It was a huge opportunity, a paid position at a top marketing firm in the city, the perfect launchpad for my career after graduation.

I felt a knot of unease in my stomach. My parents only used that serious tone when they wanted something.

"What is it?" I asked, trying to keep my voice light.

"It' s about your Uncle Rick," my father, Mark, said. He sat in his usual armchair, his face a mask of solemn concern that didn' t quite reach his eyes. "His health... it' s not good, Chloe. It' s gotten much worse."

Uncle Rick was my mother's brother, a rock musician who had been a huge star in the 90s. He' d been a recluse for years, living off his massive royalties. We hadn' t seen him since I was a little kid.

"Oh," I said. "I' m sorry to hear that. What' s wrong with him?"

My mother waved a hand dismissively. "It' s complicated. The point is, he needs someone to look after him full-time. And we think that person should be you."

The request hung in the air, so absurd I almost laughed. "Me? Mom, I can' t. My internship starts in two weeks. I' m a senior, this is my future."

My hand, resting on my laptop's trackpad, started to tremble slightly.

Suddenly, a line of glowing, blue text scrolled across my vision, right over my father's head. It looked like the live comments on a streaming video.

[LOL, here we go. They' re not worried about his health, they' re worried about his royalties. Rick' s music just got licensed for a huge movie. They want to make sure they' re in his will.]

I blinked hard, shaking my head. What was that? I must be more stressed than I thought. The text vanished.

"Chloe, this is family," my father said, his voice taking on a harder edge. "Family is more important than some summer job."

"It' s not just a summer job, Dad. It' s a career-defining internship. They don' t just hand these out. I worked for this for years."

"We know you' re a smart girl," my mother said, her smile tight and insincere. "But your uncle is very wealthy. If you take good care of him, he' ll be very generous. This could set you up for life, far better than any internship."

The blue text flashed again.

[Generous to them, you mean. They' ve been skimming from his accounts for years. Now that he' s really sick, they' re going for the jackpot.]

I felt sick. The tea my mother had made suddenly smelled bitter. I pushed it away. "No. I can' t. I won' t. Find a nurse. He can afford it."

I stood up, ready to end the conversation and go to my room.

"It' s not a request, Chloe," my father said, his voice low and cold. He stood up too, towering over me. "We' ve already made the arrangements."

His hand shot out and grabbed my arm. His grip was surprisingly strong, and it hurt. A small, painful ulcer on the inside of my cheek throbbed in protest.

"What arrangements?" I asked, my voice shaking with a mix of anger and fear.

My mother sighed, as if I were a difficult child. "Mark, just tell her."

I tried to get some real information. "You said he' s sick. What does he have? Is it contagious?"

My father' s eyes flickered, and my mother frowned, picking up her teacup and placing it back down with another loud clank.

"Don' t be ridiculous," she snapped. "It' s just... a liver problem. From his old lifestyle. Nothing you can catch."

"Then why can' t you or Dad take care of him?" I shot back. "You' re his sister, Mom."

"We have the business to run!" she said, her voice rising. "Someone has to pay the bills. You' re the one with all the free time now that you' re graduating."

The pressure was immense, a physical weight in the room. They stood together, a united front against me. I was their daughter, but in that moment, I felt like an employee they were strong-arming.

"That' s not fair," I whispered.

My father let go of my arm, but his next words were a heavier blow.

"It doesn' t matter what' s fair," he said smoothly. "I already called your internship coordinator this morning. I told them you had a family emergency and had to withdraw your application."

The air rushed out of my lungs. The room tilted.

"You what?"

"It' s done, Chloe. There' s no internship to go back to."

My whole body went cold. The blue text seared itself into my vision, sharp and clear.

[CONFIRMED: He told them she had a highly contagious and socially unacceptable disease. They rescinded the offer immediately.]

Disbelieving, my hands shaking so badly I could barely control them, I grabbed my phone from the coffee table. I fumbled with the password, my fingers slipping on the screen. I opened my email.

There it was. An email from the firm' s HR department, sent an hour ago.

"Dear Chloe, We are sorry to hear about your personal health situation. Under the circumstances, we must formally rescind our internship offer. We wish you the best in your recovery."

My vision went black at the edges. The phone slipped from my hand and clattered onto the floor.

It was true. They had done it. They had destroyed my future without a second thought.