“Grandpa, you ran away, and look how good things turned out for you.” Her grandfather had run away from home at seventeen to escape an abusive situation, and he’d met the love of his life a year later. They’d raised a beautiful family free from abuse.

Madigan’s situation wasn’t abusive, but at times like these, it was oppressive.

“I wasn’t running away from someone I loved,” her grandfather said.

“I don’t love Tobias,” she said adamantly. “That’s not what we were. We didn’t even have a real relationship.”

Her grandfather waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, so I’ve heard. But don’t fool yourself. You two had some kind of relationship, and you do love your brothers. You’d be running from them, too.”

“I don’t want to talk about them.”

“Then let’s talk about you and Tobias. You two trusted each other enough to share parts of yourselves,” her father said without a hint of judgment. “That matters, honey. A lot.” He leaned his forearms on his legs, but his eyes never left hers. “Running away won’t help you heal from the hurt of his taking off.”

“I know. Apart from feeling like I’m under everyone’s thumb, I love being here, and I’m not going to let some guy ruin everything I’ve worked so hard to build. So you can relax. I’m sticking around for now, and I’m going to focus on expanding my business. I just wanted you to know I was seriously considering it.”

“That’s my girl,” her father said. “Just be careful you don’t take on too much at once. Unfinished business has a way of catching up with people, and if you’re not careful, it can bite you in the ass.”

“I think it already has,” she pointed out. She and Tobias were about as unfinished as two people could get.

“Then maybe you’ll get lucky,” her grandfather said with a wink, “and it’ll set you free.”

MUCH LATER, MADIGAN left her first client’s apartment, pleased with how the initial meeting had gone and excited to work with the kind, elderly woman. She made her way to her next client’s apartment and knocked on the door, where she heard a singsong voice calling in response, “I’m coming.”

A petite woman who looked to be about Madigan’s mother’s age answered the door. She had beautiful thick dark hair, a friendly face, and warm hazel eyes. “Hi. You must be Madigan.”

“Yes. Are you Elsa?”

“That’s right. Please come in.” She stepped aside, and as Madigan walked in, she said, “Thank you for accepting Hank into your program. The timing couldn’t be better.”

“Why is that?”