I’d been making moves in case. SnapGoGo had said flights weren’t a problem, as long as I tagged them throughout the trip. They’d even offered hotels. In return they wanted big numbers on my posts, so they’d lost their minds when I said I was aiming for fifteen thousand more followers. Any less, and it would be a problem. Still, I could worry about that when, no if, it came to it.

I could see the first post already. Plane seat back, sheet mask on, granola bar in hand, an ironic Felt Cute Might Delete Later. Yup, I could be that girl.

This better all be worth it.

Little Marsh was an hour’s train ride from London. That could work, and Holly’s friends looked kinda fun too. One confused-looking boy really made me laugh—he had the same shirt on in every photo—with a…pastry on it?

I wondered what they’d think of someone like me?

But as I scrolled, I stopped seeing the pictures and started hearing one thing on loop. Was I actually going to do this?

It wasn’t like I’d be missing much back home. Mom and Dad were slammed with work till the new year, Nick was being his usual noncommittal self about Christmas plans, and we could only see Grams, who normally brought all the Christmas magic, during visiting hours.

I HAD to make this work.

I headed downstairs. The fake fire was lit, Mom was sprawled over Dad on the sofa, and they each had a red wine in their hand.

Mom looked up. “Hey, peach. What’s up?”

Might as well cut to the chase.

“Did your village used to have a duck pond?” Mom blinked at the conversation U-turn. Maybe a hello first would have helped. “In England? When you were a kid?”

“Ahh.” A smile grew as she untangled her long legs from Dad’s lap and sat upright. “Can’t say I saw that coming, but yes. It did.”

Okay, so at least Holly was probably telling the truth about that. Although, Google Maps wasn’t exactly a top secret research tool.

“Cool.” Big, confident smile. “Well, I’ve found someone who’s willing to swap.” Mom’s face didn’t move this time either, but from the sharp intake of breath, I think it was more shock. “For the competition? With my account?”

Dad put down his wine and said, “I see.” Which normally meant he didn’t.

“So?” I needed to keep this quick. Less time for them to properly think about it. Or talk me out of it. “You said you were up for it?”

“In principle, is what we said.” Mom was using her super-serious voice. “I think we’re going to need a little more information, Elle.”

“A lot more,” said Dad.