Chase had never wanted to go to the beach house much before because her tony apartment was in the middle of the action, but she’d found she enjoyed being in Malibu more than she’d expected. When Olivia had first brought her there, the space felt unfamiliar, overshadowed by the memory of the night she’d gotten trashed and slept with that guy. She was blinded to the beauty of the exclusive beach house in one of the most sought-after communities. Only the huge asking price Lorna refused to budge on had kept the house on the market. But at that moment, pulling away from the house, Chase didn’t want to sell this place where she’d found a slice of peace, even though the money from the sale would give her reprieve. Or rather give Lorna reprieve from the creditors. Her mother had made most of the financial decisions. Chase still didn’t know how much money she did or didn’t have. That was another mistake she’d made.

At first, Chase had disliked staying in the house with Olivia and Rick, mostly because they were insistent on a routine, and Chase didn’t do schedules. Olivia liked to pull out that damn contract Chase had signed and wave it every time Chase argued with the “sobriety itinerary” and tried to toss the covers over her head or skip dinner. Chase’s days started bright and early with yoga and a healthy breakfast, which Chase complained about, but then after a few days didn’t really mind so much. Olivia led the yoga, and though Chase still didn’t like the woman, she could admit she was good at the practice.

Over the past days, Chase had begun to appreciate not only the aesthetic beauty of the house but the healing power of the waves and warm sand. Since she was still without her phone, she spent several hours each afternoon walking the beach, reading books the decorator had placed on the shelves, and practicing the meditation she’d learned from a yogi several years before. The healthy foods Rick prepared, paired with the first good sleep she’d had in ages, had given her skin a glow and her eyes a less haunted look. She was sober, but also more in tune with her health than she’d been in years.

“So where are we going to find the real me?” Chase finally asked.

Olivia lowered the volume of the radio. The woman listened to classical music all the time. Did she actually like Chopin and Beethoven, or was it an affectation? Chase wasn’t sure, because though she’d spent mind-numbing time with Olivia, they had only talked about Chase and her problems. And that was always so fun.

“My grandparents lived in a small town called Cotter’s Creek. It’s about eight hours north of here near Mount Larsen. It’s fairly remote, but a lovely little town nestled in the foothills about eighty or so miles to the Oregon border.”

“We’re going to your grandparents’ house?” Chase was so not down with that. She didn’t like old people. Or Oregon.