Saying goodbye to this place wouldn’t be easy, but she didn’t have much of a choice. She couldn’t afford any repairs, and she needed the money from the sale to move forward. A little over a week until her birthday, and she’d make her proper goodbyes this time. The longer she lingered, the harder it would be to move on.

She sat at the dining room table and picked up the manila folder that had arrived on her front porch earlier. Her name was written in Matthew’s bold script on the outside. Carefully she removed the three sheets of paper and read through the restaurant proposal.

It was as he’d said, only this time she had numbers to go with the dream. He had done his research, and he was a far cry from the kid in high school who hadn’t really understood business. His income projections weren’t out of line, and if they came to fruition, he’d have a good moneymaking operation.

Rising, she climbed the stairs to her bedroom and crossed to the walnut dresser, which she’d been avoiding. In the bottom drawer, she found all the pictures and precious memorabilia she had shoved in there before she’d left for New York. It had been one of the ways she’d hedged her bets. If New York didn’t work out, she’d come home, open her drawer, put all her items back out, and resume her life.

But during the few times she’d returned in the last decade, she had never once opened the drawer. This was her past, and like Ruth, she wasn’t fond of ancient times.

She removed a framed picture of Matthew, Dani, and herself taken on graduation day. Matthew had his arms slung around them both, and they were all smiling. Dani’s and Matthew’s expressions telegraphed hope, whereas hers signaled she was not only hungover but frantic to tell them she was moving to New York. They’d all been so young. Desperate to build their lives, they’d all made mistakes.

Ivy set the picture aside and found a framed photo of herself and her mother. She was about four, and her mother must have been thirty-six. They were on the beach, the ocean and blue skies behind them. She was wearing a pink-and-white polka-dotted bikini and her mother a slim navy one-piece. She guessed this must have been taken the year they had moved back in with Ruth.

Her cell rang. It was Dani. “Hey.”

“Thanks for driving me to the thing.”

“The doctor’s appointment?”

“Yeah.”

“No sweat.” She pressed fingertips to her temples. “Dalton noticed I was gone. And that you were gone.”

“He stopped by.” Fatigue seeped from the words. “Didn’t quite give me the third degree, but he suspects something.”

“This is not a secret you can keep, Dani.”

“I’m not ready to have the world see me differently.”