Chapter 1

I was the extra kid in the family, the one who never quite fit in.

My sister, Nancy Smith, was a beauty pageant queen, and my brother, Peter Smith, was valedictorian of his class.

Me? I was just plain old me. The only prize I ever got was a gold star sticker back in kindergarten.

On my eighteenth birthday, I made a wish to my parents: I wanted to see the southern sea.

During winter break, my parents waved around the plane tickets they'd already booked.

When we got there, Nancy and Peter cheered at the sight of the snow up north.

We stayed at a cozy little inn for days.

On Christmas morning, I woke up early and knocked on my parents' door. Empty.

I checked my phone and saw their posts opening presents around the tree and carving the turkey. Turns out, they'd driven home after midnight mass and left me behind.

I stood there in the empty doorway, not knowing what to do.

I wondered if I had done something wrong.

Before I could figure it out, I heard footsteps on the stairs behind me. It was Henry Wilson, the innkeeper.

Without thinking, I blurted out, "Sorry, I overslept. I didn't know my parents left last night."

Henry's expression shifted instantly.

I ducked my head, ready for a lecture.

But the scolding never came.

Henry gently patted my head.

He said, "Seriously, what kind of parents do that? Just leave their kid behind on vacation? Give me your parents' number, I'll call them and tell them to come pick you up."

With the warmth lingering on my head, before I knew it, a lie slipped right out of my mouth.

I said, "Don't contact them. This is a challenge my parents gave me. They want to see if I can make it on my own now that I'm grown up."

I was not much of a liar. I looked up nervously and met Henry's worried eyes. I asked, "Can you take me in? I can cook, and I'm great at chores."

Henry frowned and said, "Sorry, but I have to get in touch with your parents."

I pulled my ID out from behind my phone case and grabbed his sleeve, pleading, "If my parents were really worried, they'd have sent me money to come home. I'm an adult now. I can take care of myself. Please, let me stay, okay?"

This wasn't the first time my parents had left me stranded somewhere.

I knew that if I reached out, they'd either come pick me up or book a ticket to send me home.

But every time I showed up safe and sound, whatever guilt they had would disappear in a flash.

Even when I told them I almost got snatched once, they just reminded me to be more careful next time.

More than once, I wondered if they really hated me.

But later, I realized that they didn't hate me. I simply wasn't on their radar next to Nancy and Peter.

After all, I was the spare kid with nothing special, the one nobody really needed. Who was I to think I could measure up to Nancy and Peter?

After hearing my story and realizing I was the third kid in my family, Henry's wife, Emily Wilson, gave me a complicated look and let out a quiet sigh.

She said, "The pay isn't much. We'll cover your room and board, but you'll only get 60 bucks a day. Does that work for you?"

I stared at her in disbelief, then nodded as hard as I could.

Just being taken in was already more than I could hope for, and now I'd even get paid.

I was already making plans. Once I had some cash, maybe next break I could finally see the ocean.

Henry called out, "Alright, come on, let's get to work. First, go hang the wreaths."

His voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I looked up at him, wide-eyed. I asked, "Am I allowed?"

Henry's brows furrowed, like he wanted to roll his eyes at me, but he held back.

He said, "Of course."

I took the fresh-cut wreaths, the pine needles still smelling of the forest. Holding them in my hands, it all felt unreal.

Back home, Christmas was always a whirlwind: hanging wreaths, stringing lights, every little thing had its own rules.

Peter was the boy, so he was the only one who actually got to hang them.

Nancy was smart and pretty, so she got to place the star on the tree, too.

I carefully hung the wreaths, and just as I finished, a hand tugged me inside.

The table was piled high with steaming mashed potatoes and gravy, and everyone crowded around, but they'd left a seat open just for me.

I stood there, stunned.

Back home, during Christmas, I was always stuck in the kitchen with the other relatives, washing dishes and peeling potatoes. We only got to eat after everyone else had finished.

Most of the time, I wasn't even allowed a seat at the table.