Brianna sighed. “It could’ve been worse. I’ve been released on probation. If I make it back to school next semester, I’ll be all right. Any later and I’ll have to reapply. But I don’t know what’s going to happen, Liam. This isn’t just about my arrest. It’s about my father. Northwestern is expensive. What if he can’t afford to pay for me to go there? And what if he needs me at home to help him get better? I can’t ask Allison to do everything.”

Liam was silent for a moment, as if weighing what he’d heard. “You’ll be all right,” he said. “We’ll be all right. As long as we love each other, we’ll find a way to make this work.”

Her heart soared. As long as Liam believed in her and loved her she could make it through this crisis. But it wouldn’t be easy. She’d be making some hard decisions over the next few weeks. It was time to become an adult.

She glanced up to see a white Lexus pulling over to the curb.

“Got to go,” she said. “Allison’s here. We’re heading home now.”

“Be safe,” he said. “Call me.”

“I will. I love you,” she said. But he was gone by then. She didn’t even know if he’d heard her final words.

Brianna tucked her phone in her purse and hurried toward the white car. A world of challenges awaited her at home—her trial, her father’s health and financial issues, and her own dreams of an education and a career, and keeping in touch with the man she loved. But Liam was right. Somehow they would work things out.

If only I can keep believing that.

“How did it go with the dean?” Allison asked as Brianna climbed into the front seat.

“I’ll tell you on the way,” she said. “For now, let’s just drive.”

Allison wasn’t surprised by Brianna’s news. The dean had made a reasonable decision. Brianna had been a promising student, but with so many applicants for Northwestern’s journalism program, they couldn’t hold her place beyond next semester.

“There are good colleges in Missouri,” Allison said. “I did some checking. Missouri State in Springfield offers a degree in journalism. You wouldn’t be paying out-of-state tuition, and since it’s only thirty-five miles from Branson, you could even live at home and commute.”

“Yeah, in my shiny red BMW convertible.” Brianna sighed. “Sorry, that just came out. I’m trying to look on the positive side, but this whole thing sucks. I can’t be Little Miss Perky-face all the time.”

“Of course you can’t,” Allison said. “If you feel like venting, go ahead.”