Chapter 1

"Nora, give up the captain’s spot to Owen."

Grant slid the entry form for the State Youth Tech Competition across the table to my daughter. He sounded as calm as if he were asking her to pass the salt.

Nora clutched her robot and didn't move.

On the paper, "Nora Bennett" had been crossed out under Lead Designer and replaced with "Owen Walker."

The rescue code she’d spent six whole months writing had been reduced to just two words: "Project Assistant."

"This is Nora's project," I said, putting my hand over the form.

"But Owen needs it more." Grant looked over at his son. "Prep school applications are due next week, and a state competition on his record could get him an interview. Nora is only eleven—she can try again next year."

Thirteen-year-old Owen sat by the workbench, casually spinning Nora's controller around like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Why should she step aside for him this year?"

Grant frowned. "Claire, we’re getting married in three weeks. Families are supposed to support each other."

"Then why isn't Owen supporting Nora?"

The garage fell dead silent.

Grant's expression darkened. "Because Owen can't afford to lose this time."

I snatched up the registration form, but a gentle tug on my sleeve stopped me.

"Mom, it's fine."

Nora looked up at me. Her eyes were red, but she was trying so hard to force a smile. "I don't mind being the assistant. The robot still belongs to our family, right?"

"No," I crouched down in front of her. "It's yours. The blueprints, the programming—all of it is yours."

She looked past me to Grant instead.

He patted her on the head. "Good girl. Once your mom and I get married, you and Owen will be brother and sister. I won't forget what you did for us."

The word Dad—or the thought of it—made Nora's eyelashes flutter.

Last Christmas, she had accidentally called Grant "Dad" for the first time, getting so embarrassed she ran and hid in her room.

He had told her then that whenever she was ready, she could call him that anytime.

Ever since, she’d been getting ready.

"So... my name is just going second?" she asked.

Grant nodded. "Just this once."

Nora was quiet for a few seconds. Then she picked up a Sharpie and personally crossed out "Designed by Nora Bennett" on the display board, changing it to "Owen Walker & Nora Bennett."

Owen reached over and took it. "Can you make my name a little bigger?"

Nora picked up a thicker marker and did it without a word.

At dinner, she passed her favorite chicken wing to Owen and even volunteered to teach him how to run the robot demonstration.

The more submissive and understanding she acted, the more uneasy I felt.

Grant, however, was thrilled. "See? She understands what it means to be a family better than you do."

After dinner, I found the crumpled old entry form in the trash can.

When I smoothed it out, I saw a line written in pencil on the back:

If I help Owen, will Grant want to be my Dad more?

My whole body froze.

Footsteps echoed from upstairs.

Nora was standing on the steps holding a wedding seating chart card. When she saw the paper in my hand, her face went ghost-white, and she frantically hid the card behind her back.

But I had already seen it. Right underneath Grant's name, she had written "Dad."

"Mom, please don't tell him," she whispered, pleading. "I wanted to wait until after the wedding."

"Why do you have to wait until after the wedding?"

She squeezed the card tight, her voice barely audible.

"Because... once he’s really my dad, he won't always pick Owen over me every single time... right?"