“What?” I look at my parents. Was their story of meeting at the inn a lie? “Please, Dad, don’t tell me you married Mom because of a silly promise.”

I shrink back at Grandma’s offended gasp. “Autumn! Don’t disrespect your great-grandmother.”

“I’m not disrespecting anyone, Grandma. But it’s…wrong to make such a promise.” My voice escalates as I continue. “Their kids weren’t toys to be exchanged. They were people with personal likes, dislikes, and expectations.”

Dad grabs my shoulder.

“Were you and Mom…” I can’t even finish the sentence, but thankfully Dad shakes his head.

“It was Uncle Tommy’s duty to fulfill the wish of the elders.”

My breath hitches hearing the name, which is rarely spoken out loud in our home. All I know about Uncle Tommy is that he was a few years older than Mom and he died in a car crash.

“He was supposed to marry Martha Spencer. But like you, he called it a fool’s promise and walked away. The Spencers waited a long time, and then Martha started seeing someone else.”

Grandma looks at Grandpop, who very subtly shakes his head, and I don’t know what they decide to hide, because so far, everything Grandma told me sounds like a story from some fantasy movie.

“Martha died, leaving behind her son, and you already know about Uncle Tommy’s accident. Everyone believed that was because of the promise.”

“What?” My hands are clammy. “You can’t believe that, Dad. It’s nonsense. How do the deaths of two people who are living their separate lives have any connection?”

“Because they died in the same accident,” Grandpop says carefully. “Their cars crashed into each other.”

I feel like I’m in a weird dream.

Fate? Or just a sad coincidence.

Grandpop drops the final bomb on me. “That day, we decided whatever happens, we’ll make sure your great-grandmother’s promise is fulfilled. And we visited the Spencers to talk about you.”

“No!” My hands rest against my ears. “You sold me?”

Dad pulls my hand down. “No one sold you, tums. We agreed it was a possibility that could be explored when the time was right.”

“P-possibility for what?”

Grandma says, “Fulfilling your great-grandmother’s promise by you marrying Lukas Spencer.”

3. Lukas

3

LUKAS

Present Day

“What do you think, Uncle Lukas?” Merida asks as her father plods out of his bedroom.

Keith Adams is my buddy and colleague at Kings Security, an elite security company I co-own in St. Peppers.

This is the third white shirt he’s tried, and for the love of God, I can’t tell the difference between any of them, but his teenage daughter always finds something.

A collar too short. A button weirdly shaped.

“It looks great.” I repeat the words I’ve said for the previous ones.

“Hmm…this one looks good to me too,” Merida finally says, tapping her finger on her chin.