She swallows and tears stream down her face. “Because it’s embarrassing enough. I’ll deal with everything, but it would help if my parents didn’t know. You know how Daddy is.”

Her dad is a perfectionist and expects the same from his daughter. Always has. And Abby has always lived up to those expectations, until now.

“Where am I supposed to live for two months, Abby? In my truck?”

“I’m sure you’ll find something. There’s Annabel too.”

My sister. I guess it’s possible I could stay with her temporarily, but she has roommates. The housing situation in Blue Falls right now is a nightmare.

I clench my jaw, wishing for a miracle, to go back in time, and for everything in the last twelve hours to not have happened. I can’t possibly let her do this. But then I meet Abby’s blue eyes, as familiar as my own, now red with tears. Her face is pale, her arms wrapped around her stomach like it’s the only thing holding her together. The angry ball in my stomach turns hollow.

“Fine.”

She disappears inside and I stay on the porch for a minute, wondering how on earth everything could have gone so wrong so quickly.

I get all my stuff in the truck in less than a half hour without running into Abby or Kevin. They’ve disappeared into his room, the door shut. All is quiet.

I don’t have much, but it’s enough to almost fill the two-seater cab of my truck. I won’t be able to sleep here, unless I do so while sitting up with a box for a pillow.

I sit in the driveway in my now-cramped cab and call the only person who might be able to help me find a place to live, even though it’s the last person I want to call because of the sheer amount of shit she’s going to give me.

Annabel.

I take a deep breath before hitting the call button. Gotta pull it together. Time to get things sorted.

“Hey, Annabel Lee. How’s your tomb in the sounding sea?” I shouldn’t be teasing her since I’m about to ask a favor, but it’s an old joke.

“You’re not at all worth pleasing, Mr. Darcy,” she counters.

Our mother is a librarian. She loves all things literature, hence our names.

Dad—who doesn’t read anything except construction plans—might have argued, but he loved her too much to tell her no. Our parents have been together since they were children. Just like Abby and I.

My stomach lurches but I pull it together and remind myself of the conversation at hand.

“So how you been?” I ask.

There’s a long second of silence and then Annabel responds in a wary tone. “What do you want, Fitz?”

I sigh. Better to get it over with. “Can I crash on your couch for a few days?”

A longer stretch of silence ensues. “What’s going on?”

“There’s been a bit of an issue here.”

“Aren’t you staying at Scott’s?”