Just as she was telling herself that it couldn’t get any worse, she caught sight of Tabitha Ryder. Greta winced.

Tabitha’s smooth blond bangs and elfin face were framed by the faux-fur-lined hood she had pulled up against the Maine winter. She held mittened hands with Jordan Laverty, who was handsome and too infuriatingly kind to loathe the way Greta would have liked.

Hey, at least Greta had a perfectly self-deprecating story to tell when the topic of first loves came up. Not everyone had confessed their love to their best friend and then puked on her shoes. (Although, Greta found out, more had than you might think.)

Tabitha’s blue eyes grew wide when she saw Greta onstage, and Greta braced herself for the utter carnage of her heart that would follow if Tabitha smirked at her pathetic misfortune.

But Tabitha didn’t smirk.

It was so much worse.

Tabitha, curse the kind soul that had made Greta love her in the first place, gave Greta a look of such pity that Greta felt her insides fold like a paper bag. Gone was the urge to murder. Now, with Tabitha—beautiful, happy Tabitha—looking at her while holding the hand of her new love, Greta simply wished to disappear.

***

Greta allowed herself one hour of furious shower wall punching and postshower cringing at the memories of the day before she pulled a wool hat over her damp hair, stepped into her boots, zipped up her heavy coat, and stormed over to her parents’ house three streets over, where the whole family always gathered on holidays and Saturday afternoons.

Close was the word Greta always used to describe her relationship with her family. Occasionally, as she got older, tight-knit. But it wasn’t until her friend Ash had returned to Owl Island after leaving for a few years that someone had finally looked her dead in the face and said, “Dude. Your family isn’t just close. It’s codependent. And weird,” he added under his breath as Greta squirmed.

And, okay, she’d always known her family did more things together than lots of people’s, but they had a whole thing going on, and usually it was great. Her family was lovely and fun. Her sisters—especially Adelaide and Maggie—were her best friends (since Tabitha wasn’t in the picture anymore), and she loved having a built-in support network, no matter what happened. But then there were moments like this. Moments when they were intrusive and possessive and infuriating and—

Greta took a deep breath before she opened the door, steeling herself not to give an inch. She couldn’t give them a chance to explain, because there was no acceptable explanation. She couldn’t hear them out, because no motivation could justify it. She just had to storm in there, set her jaw, and start yelling. It was the only way to be heard over six other people.

Tillie was just inside the door.