Chapter 1
Charles Reed was my childhood friend. He had liked me for over a decade. He picked me up outside the VIP arrival gate at the airport on my first day back. But the first thing he said to me was: "Vivian, Emily is fragile. Don't scare her."
I paused for two seconds, wondering if I'd misheard after a fourteen-hour flight.
Five years apart. There wasn't a single "Welcome back" or "How was the flight?"
He stood before me, still that same distant, cool presence in a white shirt with sleeves rolled to his elbows, but his first words were a warning on behalf of another girl.
I slipped off my sunglasses and looked up at him. "Charles, do you already need to give me a disclaimer before you even see me?"
His brow barely moved, as if he, too, realized how poor a start this was. But he still said, in a low voice, "That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?"
Charles took my suitcase from me, not meeting my eyes. "Emily hasn't been doing well lately. She heard you were coming back and couldn't sleep all night. She's sensitive. Don't be too harsh with her."
I laughed. I really did.
When I was a kid, I broke my arm at the stables, and Charles sat with me all night.
Later, when I was burning up with fever and rambling nonsense, he even got the private doctor out of bed at three in the morning.
Back then, everyone in the Capitavia Circle knew that if I, Vivian Grant, so much as lost a single hair, Charles would be stressing out for hours.
Since I'd landed, he was worried I might freak someone else out.
"Alright," I said, draping my scarf over my shoulder, my tone light. "I'll try to look as harmless as possible."
Charles glanced at me, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he said, "The car's outside."
As we stepped out of the terminal, the dry Capitavia wind hit me, carrying that familiar chill of late April.
I'd been gone so long that even the signs on the overpass outside the airport were a different color.
But what really felt strange wasn't the city. Ot was the invisible boundary between the front seat and the back, after we got in the car.
"What about the others?" I asked casually, turning to look out the window.
Charles kept his hands steady on the wheel, sounding as calm as ever. "Patrick's out on the west side. James is stuck in a meeting. Samuel's got a roadshow this afternoon."
"Guess everyone's got their hands full," I said with a little nod. "Funny how they're all too busy to pick me up, but still have time to micromanage whether I'm gonna scare someone."
The car went quiet for a few seconds.
Charles knew there was nothing else to say, so he went, "Patrick's hosting a welcome dinner for you at Skyline Club tonight. Are you coming?"
"Of course," I replied.
As soon as I powered up my phone, it was instantly flooded with messages, so many that my screen looked ready to burst.
"It's been five years. I gotta see what everyone's been up to," I said.
The very first message was from Lydia West. [Girl, you finally landed! Don't even bother checking the group chat. It's been crazier than a soap opera lately. I'll send you the highlights.]
Right after that, a barrage of screenshots started rolling in.
It was our old four-person group chat, the one that hadn't been active in years.
The first message was from Patrick Lane: [Is Ms. Grant really coming back?]
James Carter replied: [Yeah, it's true.]
Half a minute later, Samuel Brooks chimed in: [Let's not tell Emily yet.]
Then Charles jumped in. [She'll find out sooner or later.]
Patrick: [I'm worried it's gonna turn into a whole drama.]
James: [Seriously, you all know Vivian's temper.]
Samuel: [Let's keep an eye on things for now.]
The last message was from this morning, two hours before I landed.
Charles: [I'll go pick her up.]
Patrick: [Alright, give her a heads-up so she doesn't take it out on Emily.]
I stared at those messages, my fingertip lingering at the edge of the screen for a long time.
Outside the window, sections of the overpass slid past, and my own face showed up in the glass.
My makeup was steady, my expression even, but the way my fingertip pressed against the phone case, turning pale, pretty much spoke for my feelings.
They'd already cast me as the villain before I even got back.
Before I even set foot in Capitavia, I was already the one everyone expected to cause trouble.
When the car pulled up to the Grant Estate, my mom was already waiting for me at the door.
She was wearing a cream-colored dress, her hair loosely pinned up. The moment she saw me, she hurried down the steps. "Vivian."
I threw myself into her arms, feeling a lump in my throat for a second. "Mom."
She hugged me tight, then stepped back, her eyes smiling as she looked at me. "You've gotten so thin."
"The food overseas was terrible," I joked.
"Well, now that you're home, let's make up for it."
She smoothed my hair, then glanced over at Charles, her smile fading a little. "Thanks for bringing her back, Charles."
Charles nodded. "Of course."
My dad was in the living room, pretending to read the newspaper, but as soon as I walked in, he put it down, acting like it was no big deal. "You're just back. Why make such a big deal out of it?"
I walked over and gave him a hug. "Want me to leave then?"
He snorted, unable to keep up the act. "You wouldn't dare."
Nothing had changed at home, not even the couch I used to sprawl on as a kid, binge-watching movies.
After lunch, I helped my mom pick out flowers for the party in the greenhouse.
White roses, champagne-colored peonies, light gold place cards, and a custom dessert table.
As she went through the list, she asked, "Does Leon Grant's mom prefer more flowers or something simpler?"
"Simpler," I said after a moment. "She's not into anything too flashy."
"Then let's cut two more hydrangea arrangements," she said.
She handed the notes to the butler, then turned to me. "You came back a month early for this welcome dinner?"
"Yeah," I said, flipping through the color swatches. "His dad's not in great health, so he can't travel much.
"This is the first time our families are meeting formally, so we need to get all the details sorted out ahead of time."
My mom looked at me, her eyes full of gentle pride. "You've really grown up."
I smiled, not saying anything.
Growing up was really about leaving behind the people and places I once knew and learning to rely on myself for what I want.
The sweet things others used to give me stopped mattering. I started deciding for myself what to eat tonight, where to go tomorrow, and who I want to spend my life with.