“Olivia!” The woman says my name like I’m a long-lost friend or the waitress at her favorite café, where she gets her coffee for free. She waves her hand at me and for a second I forget that she’s actually the hunter and I’m the prey, trapped out here on the gravel, my bike on the other side of the TV and newspaper reporters now advancing on me. How did this happen? My mom can’t even get winning the lottery right. They should be camped out at her house, not mine.

“Why are you here? My mom lives in Tampa now.” Or Tempe. Or … maybe it was Tulsa. I shake my head. “She doesn’t live here.”

The man shakes his head, “We just interviewed her at her hotel. Lovely woman.”

Lovely woman. That’s my mother, all right.

“Can we just get a quick clip, maybe ask you a few questions?” the nosy woman asks. Ellis is still escorting her toward me, but she’s breaking free, finding her footing in the gravel, picking up speed. I don’t have anywhere left to go. Behind me are the kayak racks, the garage bays are on my right, and the river flanks my left.

“I don’t … I just—” I’m having flashbacks of standing up in sophomore-year speech class, all eyes turned on me as I presented a speech on my family. I made a little tree that plotted everyone out, put in pictures of Aunt Sarah and my Oma, gave Emma and Zander their own honorary branches. I talked about how you choose your family. And the entire time I stood there, my stomach was in my throat. I don’t have a problem giving prepared speeches, I just don’t like to talk about my family. People want to hear about how much you look up to your dad, and why you want to be like your mom. But I don’t know who he is, and I don’t want to be anything like her. That’s not who my family is.

“Olivia.” My name rings out again, but not from the direction I’m expecting. It’s coming from the river, from Aiden, who is stepping down into a canoe, waving a hand at me as I back-step from the reporters.

What is he doing?

“Olivia.” He nods toward the paddle lying on the dock.

I run toward him and grab it. As I step down into the canoe, it tips and bobs under me. Aiden is pushing off with his paddle before my butt even hits the metal seat, and seconds later we’re gliding through the water.

“Oh my god.” I don’t know what else to say.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, that was—” What was that?

“Completely unacceptable behavior at work?” he says.

Shit. “Were there customers standing around?” Am I losing my job on the first day? “I didn’t know—crap.”

“I’m kidding, Olivia. Jeez.”