Chapter 2

I said, "Wedding room?"

I thought I had heard wrong. "Michael is getting married?"

"Nothing is settled yet," Mom said.

She paused, then went on. "But his girlfriend's family has money, so we clear the room out now. I don't want them coming over and seeing us look cheap."

My voice tightened. "Mom, the storage room doesn't have a window."

Michael sat up on the couch with a frown.

"Claire, you're arguing with me over this? You're not a kid. You'll be married off sooner or later. What's the harm in giving it to me?"

"I'm not arguing. I furnished that room with my first paycheck," I said.

"That's enough," Mom said, waving me off.

"Take your things and leave the rest for your brother. You can't take any of it with you when you marry anyway. Picking at this only hurts the family."

It only hurt the family.

I looked at the three of them and felt like I was looking at strangers.

At work the next day, I sat at my desk the whole day.

I worked in the City Development & Planning Department, and my job was writing.

Every research report, briefing, and speech for the leadership came through my hands.

At three in the afternoon, my supervisor called me into his office.

"Claire, that City Key Industry Chain Development Report came out very well," he said.

He smiled with his eyes half shut. "The people upstairs named you specifically."

Something warm moved in my chest.

I had spent half a month on that report and visited more than a dozen companies, and the work had finally been seen.

"But." My supervisor's tone shifted.

"The credit line is going to Michael Sutton and Ethan Perry. They're the project leads. You handled some of the groundwork, so putting your name on it isn't appropriate."

Groundwork was the word he used.

Twenty thousand words I had written, and it was groundwork, and then it belonged to someone else.

"Sir, that report was mine from the outline to the numbers."

"Claire."

My supervisor cut me off, and his voice turned into advice.

"Young people shouldn't weigh credit and titles so heavily. Your brother and Ethan are the department's top performers, and we're investing in them. Learn from them, and your chances will come."

I gripped the doorknob and couldn't get a single argument out.

Walking out of the office, I ran straight into Brooklyn.

She was carrying a coffee and came over with a bright smile.

"Claire, I heard your report got a mention. The credit goes to Michael and Ethan, so don't take it to heart. They need it more than you do," she said.

I looked at her. "They need it?"

"Of course."

She blinked at me. "Claire, you write the material. You're not up for a promotion. What would you do with the credit anyway?"

She said it as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world, and I didn't argue. I turned and walked away.

That night, I worked past nine, and I went to the break room for water.

I could still hear voices coming from the conference room next door. It was Michael and Ethan.

Michael said, "Claire wrote this report again, didn't she?"

Ethan laughed. "She's got real writing chops."

"So what?"

Michael made a sound of contempt. "With a personality like hers, she'll never amount to anything. We put our names on it and she won't say a word."

"True enough."

Ethan laughed again. "A sister like yours is the perfect office tool. Every place should keep a few."

An office tool. That was what I was to my brother and my boyfriend.

My hand shook around the cup, and hot water spilled over the back of it, turning the skin red.

That burn was nothing next to what was going on inside me.