Chapter 1

On the day the SAT scores were released, I clutched my phone and waited anxiously for forty minutes.

“I got a 1550! Oh, Bree got a 1540! We’re both going to Preston Medical University!” my twin brother Michael Ashby shouted.

I was about to say I could go too, but my girlfriend, Brielle Willow, had already grabbed Michael’s hand and dashed out the door.

Brielle only remembered me during the celebration.

“Oh, Fin, Preston Community College is right next to the medical school. Why don’t you just apply to their nursing program? That way, the three of us could still hang out together.”

Michael chuckled and lightly patted my head.

“Male nurses are in demand. Later on, when goofball Bree and I are doctors, you can assist us as our nurse. It’s the perfect combo!”

They complemented each other perfectly like two halves of a whole. I did not belong there.

For years, I had been running myself into the ground trying to keep up. They were always miles ahead, and I could only watch from behind.

For once, I chose not to chase after them any longer.

Chapter 1

Finley's POV

Both my girlfriend Brielle Willow’s and my family threw the celebration party together.

The entire table was topped with my twin brother Michael Ashby’s favorite spicy dishes. My stomach, however, could not handle any spicy food.

Even the cake had been ordered in advance.

Perhaps due to limited space, only Michael’s and Brielle’s names could fit on it.

I sat between them.

The moment we started eating, the two of them kept playfully bickering right past me.

Michael reached over to snap Brielle’s shoulder strap.

“Hey, Brielle! I beat you by ten points. I should be sitting at the head of the table.”

Brielle laughed and sidled up to me to evade him.

“Fin, do something about your brother! He was already getting full of himself right after the exam. Now, he’s getting handsy with me!

Michael did not back down.

“Fin, don’t listen to her. She didn’t say a word when she grabbed my junk, did she?”

I remained silent.

Michael was so annoyed that he tapped Brielle’s hand with his fork.

“Hey, you’re so ungrateful! If I hadn’t hooked you two up, would you even snag a boyfriend as hot as Fin?”

With that, they went right back to a playful round of shoving and slapping each other as if nothing had happened.

I was stuck in the middle like a third wheel. The good news I had been holding in my throat died before it could reach my mouth.

Falling in love with Brielle felt like a lifetime ago.

Michael had gone through my diary and found out about my crush on Brielle.

I had begged him not to tell anyone. But the moment the SATs were over, the whole school knew I had a crush on Brielle.

He put his arm around my shoulder and said, “What’re you scared of? I’ll get her for you.”

He urged me to write a love letter.

I stayed up for three nights to write one, but in the end, I handed over the one Michael wrote.

Brielle read it and burst out laughing.

“Mic, I knew you ghostwrote this. You idiot, you didn’t even switch out the name.”

Michael hooked his arm around her neck and nearly knocked her to the floor as he said, “So, is that a yes or no? Because if you say no, I’m done with you for real!”

Brielle raised both hands in surrender.

She was afraid Michael would really stop talking to her, so she went along and agreed to date me.

He had always overshadowed me. Even when I worked as hard as I could and finally scored well, nobody cared.

I lowered my head and ate in silence.

A little while later, Brielle peeled an orange and gave it to Michael. He took a bite, then casually shoved it into my mouth.

“Here, try this. The oranges your girlfriend peeled are so sweet.”

Later, my parents peeled some shrimp and piled them into a small mountain on Michael’s plate.

He scraped two over to me with a disdainful expression.

“There’s way too much. Help me finish some.”

The orange was sweet, but when I ate it, it tasted bitter.

I was like a trash can at his disposal for everything he did not seem to care about.

I had had enough of this feeling that I had constantly felt since childhood.

I set down my utensils, blinked my slightly teary eyes, and looked at Brielle.

“Brielle, do you still remember saying that you’d go to National Service Academy with me?”

I thought back to the summer three years ago, when the sunset had painted the sky red.

On that day, I had failed my history test again.

I had squatted on the bleachers of the sports field and stared into space.

At some point, Brielle showed up. She climbed up onto the bleachers and sat down next to me.

She handed me a bottle of water and asked, “Did you fail another test?”

I buried my face in my knees.

“I don’t even want to do this anymore. I’m just not smart enough. No matter how hard I study, I can never keep up with you and Mic.”

She did not respond right away.

After a long pause, she pressed the water bottle into my hand.

“Then, set a goal for yourself. You love the ocean, right?

“Go to Southwick. It’s by the coast.”

I looked up at her.

She continued, “You can go to National Service Academy. I looked it up before. It’s in Southwick.

“The ocean is just right outside. There’ll be coconut trees everywhere. Besides, you’ve always wanted to serve.”

“Are you going too?”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

She paused for a moment, then looked down and gave the step a light kick. “If you get in, I’ll go with you.”

“Really?”

“Why would I lie to you?” She laughed and reached over to ruffle my hair.

“When the time comes, I’ll take you to the beach on Sundays to pick up shells. You can’t handle spicy food.

“The food down there happens to be on the sweeter side. I’ll learn how to cook it for you.”

As she said that, the sunset fell right across her shoulder.

I wrote “National Service Academy” all over my diary.

Later, Michael found that diary. He had originally been set on Southwick, but then, he changed his mind and said he was going to Preston Medical instead.

That place was the furthest thing away from Southwick.

Brielle switched her plans right along with him.

“Oh... really? I don’t remember that.”

She chuckled like it was no big deal.

“Why are you even bringing this up out of nowhere?”

She leaned back in her chair and added, “I’d like to go to a medical school with Mic now. Besides, you didn’t even get into National Service Academy.”

I was stunned.

So, she did remember. She just had been certain that I would not make it.

“Hey, watch your mouth when you talk to my brother!” Michael put his hands on his hips and shot back at her.

“That’s your boyfriend. He’s your future husband, by the way.”

“Rubber that!”

“You’re crazy!”

The two of them started bickering again.

Right then, I just felt completely done with it all.

Back at the table, my mother, Trisha Underwood, was laughing about how cute they were. My father, Ian Ashby, and Brielle’s father, Wallace Willow, clinked glasses for the third time already.

Nobody even saw me leave.

The night breeze was cool against my skin.

I took out my phone and called my homeroom teacher, Noah Carter.

“Hey, Fin. What’s up?”

“Ms. Carter, could you keep my score confidential?”

There was a pause on the other end before she replied, “I could, but you’ll need it for your college application. Don’t you want to share your high scores with your family and talk about your college options?”

I leaned against the wall and peered through the warm, yellow-lit window.

Inside, Brielle had her arms around Michael, and they were spinning in circles together.

“No need. I’m applying to National Service Academy.”

Chapter 2

I sat by the flower bed for a long while.

I did not get up until they exited the restaurant. Everyone was clustered around Michael.

He jogged over and threw his arm over my shoulder.

“Fin! Why’d you sneak off by yourself?”

I instinctively flinched away.

“I was full. I just came out to get some air.”

“Perfect timing.”

He let go of me and glanced back at our parents, who were catching up.

“Mom and Dad need to tell you something.”

My parents looked at each other.

Mom spoke first.

“Fin, actually, your dad and I already filed for divorce before your SATs. We kept it from you so it wouldn’t affect your and Mic’s performance.”

Dad chimed in, “Now that Mic has done so well, we finally feel relieved.

“There are still a few days left before the divorce is finalized. After that, we’ll all go our separate ways.”

There was even a hint of relief in his tone, as if a burden had finally been lifted.

When I heard that, my mind went completely blank.

I was not shocked because my parents were getting divorced.

I had snapped my head toward Michael, and what I saw shocked me.

He was way too calm. It was like he had known all along.

“So...” My voice was shaking a little.

“You all had this planned out from the start. When it comes to things in this family, I’m always the last to find out, aren’t I?”

No one answered me.

Michael grabbed Mom’s arm and whined playfully, “Mom, you promised. Even if you and Dad get divorced, Fin and I are still your baby boys.”

Mom gave his hand a doting pat.

“Of course, sweetie. Come with me, I’ll take you to see the world.”

“No way!” Dad cut in immediately.

“Mic stays with me. My connections and network are way better for his future.”

The two of them tugged at Michael’s sleeves from opposite sides.

It seemed intense, but it was just loud family fun.

Michael swayed left and right as they pulled him. He smiled helplessly with a tinge of smugness.

Even though I was at the center, I felt like a stranger who had wandered into someone else’s family portrait.

“What do you even see me as?” The words came out louder than I meant.

Everyone went quiet for a moment.

Mom frowned and said, “Why are you yelling? Who are you to throw a fit with a score that low?”

Michael quickly stepped in to smooth things over.

“Mom, Fin didn’t do well on the exam, so of course he’s upset. Cut him some slack, alright?”

He turned and patted me on the shoulder as he said, “Don’t worry, Fin. Mom and Dad have always been fair. I’m sure they’ll respect your choice, no matter which one of us you go with.”

He always had a knack for winning people over.

Growing up, when I got bullied at school, he was the one who stood up and spoke for me.

At home, when Mom and Dad neglected me, he was the one who stood up for me so they would pay me some attention, too.

But I finally understood that every time he defended me, it was built on the simple fact that he had already won. Charity, after all, was a luxury of those who already had it.

Brielle also walked over with a frown as she said, “Fin, don’t make such a big deal out of it. Have some dignity.

“Look at Mic. Nothing ever rattles him. You’re the older brother, so you should learn from him.”

I did not think I could.

For as long as I could remember, I could never measure up to him.

I was the older brother only because I came out first during the C-section.

That one accident of birth meant I was supposed to yield to my younger brother when it came to every single matter.

He got the newest backpack every year, while I had to mend my own when it tore.

At dinner, it was always his favorite food on the table. If I got home even ten minutes late, I would only get whatever cold leftovers remained.

When we were young, our parents would walk ahead holding his hand. The moment I bent down to tie my shoe, they would be far ahead.

That distance always felt impossible to close.

So, when our parents finally divorced, it just meant whatever little love they had left for me had all been given to Michael instead.

Of course he would be calm. He had everything.

When I remained silent, Brielle held my hand firmly and said, “Come on, don’t get upset. Worst comes to worst, I’ll take care of you.”

“What are you talking about? That’s my big brother!” Michael swatted her hand away.

“If anyone’s taking care of him, it’s me!”

“Do you have to compete over this too? That’s so overbearing!”

The two of them started shoving and roughhousing again, their laughter piercingly loud in the night air.

Though they seemed to be fighting over me, in truth, neither of them actually wanted me.

“I’m not going with anyone. From now on, I’m on my own.”

When I looked up, everyone had gone ahead.

Michael had already run off into the distance, with Brielle laughing and chasing after him.

My parents had followed along as well.

They bustled noisily toward the same direction, and not a single person looked back at me.

It had always been like that.

In the past, I would always chase them down, even knowing I would only ever be trailing behind.

I was done trying to keep up.

Chapter 3

That night, I walked for a long time before finally heading home.

When I pushed open the door, the living room was completely dark. Not even the hallway night light had been left on.

That night, I did not sleep a wink.

Early the next morning, Noah announced in the group chat that everyone should come to school to pick up their folders. Those folders contained their application materials.

By the time I arrived at school, she was already tidying up his desk.

She looked up at me with a smile.

“Fin, you’re here. Mic and Brielle just left. They took your folder back with theirs.”

I nodded and turned around to walk back home.

When I pushed open the front door, Brielle and Michael were sitting side by side on the couch.

Brielle held a brown paper envelope in her hand and was instructing Michael, “You absolutely cannot lose this folder. You’ll need it for enrollment.

“When the time comes, keep it with your acceptance letter. Better yet, lock it in a drawer.”

Michael listened attentively and nodded earnestly.

My eyes swept past the backpacks in front of them. I walked over, opened one, and rummaged through it.

I searched for a long while but could not find my folder anywhere.

Michael turned to me and asked, “Fin, what are you looking for?”

I asked anxiously, “Where’s my folder?”

Brielle looked up, visibly uncomfortable. “Mic and I grabbed ours and left. We... aren’t sure where yours are.”

At that moment, I snapped.

Michael stood up and tried to comfort me, “Fin, don’t panic. The folder might still be at school...”

I had tuned him out. I turned and ran frantically toward the school.

The whole way there, the wind hit my throat, dry and rough.

After Noah learned what happened, she contacted the security office to review the surveillance footage.

The screen clearly showed Michael holding two folders in his hand at the time.

He had taken both, yet he somehow lost mine.

Just then, Michael and Brielle arrived at the school.

Michael walked in and casually threw his arm around my shoulder with an easygoing look.

“Fin, it’s okay. We’ll definitely find it. Don’t worry.”

I stood there, frozen in his tight embrace.

He was telling me not to worry.

I had scored a 1580 on the SAT, and I could have gone to any top university. Those scores had gone completely missing.

Noah tried to comfort me, saying, “Fin, take a breath. Call your parents and have them come to the school.

“You need to get your application materials reissued immediately.”

Replacing lost application materials was not simple.

I would need new transcripts from the guidance office, resend my SAT scores through the College Board, and get fresh recommendation letters from my teachers.

Missing any one piece meant delays, and nothing could be done overnight.

Even if I managed to gather everything, the full process would drag on for weeks.

It was all Michael’s fault.

He finally started to panic, and his eyes were getting teary. He pulled out his phone and called our parents.

“Mom, Fin lost his folder. You and Dad need to come to the school now!”

Nearly an hour later, our parents finally showed up at the school, looking reluctant.

Mom stormed in and yelled at me, “Why couldn’t you keep your materials properly? What a waste of all those years in school!”

Dad frowned as he looked at me, “So what if they’re lost? You failed the exam anyway.

“It doesn’t matter if you have them or not. Worst case, you just don’t go to college.”

I snapped my head and turned to Michael as I said through gritted teeth, “Michael, did you do that on purpose?”

Before he could say a word, Brielle stepped in front of him to shield him.

“Fin, you’re being unreasonable! Mic went out of his way to get your materials for you. Is this how you would thank him?”

Mom slapped me and scolded me in a shrill voice, “You couldn’t be bothered to handle your own errands, and then you have the nerve to blame other people?

“What, does Mic work for you now? Is he your personal errand boy or something?”

Chapter 4

My cheek hurt from Mom’s slap, but my heart hurt even more.

Back in the winter of eighth grade, Michael accidentally lost his certificate from a speech competition.

He had cried and said that the certificate meant a lot to him.

Brielle and my parents spent all night combing the route he had taken home in the snow.

Later, Brielle convinced the school to issue him a replacement, and Dad called in some favors with the school board to get it officially sealed.

No one had blamed him for not keeping his own certificate safe.

They were acting so differently when it came to me.

I merely asked if Michael did it on purpose, and I ended up with a slap on the face while everyone furiously accused me.

Michael’s eyes glistened with tears. He started sobbing so violently that he almost choked on his own breaths.

“It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have been a busybody and helped Fin to get his folder. Why did I even bother?

“Now, everyone’s mad because of me...”

The moment Mom saw him sob uncontrollably, she became even more furious.

She grabbed my hand and yanked it toward her own neck.

“Here, Finley. Kill me if that makes you happy.

“With a score like that, you’ve got no right to talk back to Mic. Don’t expect me to pay a single penny for whatever crummy school you end up at.”

Brielle pulled Michael into her arms and patted him on the back.

“It’s not your fault. He should’ve gotten those things by himself anyway.

“That’s on him. Don’t let it get to you.”

Everyone crowded around him and comforted him.

I was clearly the victim, yet everyone was blaming me.

I felt increasingly suffocated by the tension in that space.

Michael only stopped crying when Mom offered to bring him to a fine dining restaurant to eat.

Brielle hooked her arm through his and said, “Come on, let’s not waste our time on that petty jerk. A good meal will make you feel better.”

They ushered him out of the school gate.

I closed my eyes.

At that moment, I felt numb.

Seeing that no one had my back, Noah ended up rounding up every school staff member to help look for my folder.

Eventually, they discovered that Michael had left it sitting on the edge of a flower bed near the gate while he tied his shoe.

A janitor saw it, thought it was trash, and threw it into the trash bin.

I rushed to the back door and threw open all four green plastic dumpsters.

The stench was overwhelming. Without even putting on gloves, I reached in and dug through bag after bag of trash.

My fingers grazed sticky fruit peels, sodden tissues, and mysterious fluids.

At the bottom of the third bin, my fingertips brushed against a stiff manila envelope.

When I pulled it out, the folder was covered in stains, but the name “Finley Ashby” was still legible on the front.

Clutching that filthy folder, I slumped down in exhaustion and slid to the floor beside the trash bin.

At that moment, it finally hit me. No one in this family had ever been there for me.

They never were. They never would be.

But thankfully, I no longer needed them to.

Chapter 5

At some point, Noah emerged behind me without me noticing.

She patted my shoulder and said, “Fin, I get it now. I see why you didn’t want your family to know your scores.”

She paused for a moment, then added, “Going to National Service Academy isn’t such a bad thing. Room and board are free, and there’s a scholarship too.

“You’ll be able to manage just fine on your own.”

I nodded, tucked the soiled folder into my jacket, and muttered a quiet “thank you” to her before turning around and heading home.

When I arrived home, the living room was buzzing with more noise than I could stand.

Michael was brimming as he sat in the very center of the couch, completely surrounded by our parents and Brielle.

Brielle said loudly, “Then, it’s settled! We’re leaving for the road trip today!”

Michael spotted me first. He immediately stood up and came over and greeted me warmly.

“Hey, you’re back! I heard from Ms. Carter that you found your folder. You’re not mad anymore, are you?”

He frowned and put on a pitiful look before he continued.

“I’m sorry. We really should’ve stayed and helped you look for the folder. We shouldn’t have just left you like that.”

So, they knew all along. They knew they should not have abandoned me when I was at my lowest.

But it had always been like that.

Whenever I got emotional about something, Michael would throw a little fit, and suddenly everyone’s attention was on him.

Big issues got brushed aside. Small ones vanished completely.

It was as if my emotions did not matter. It was as if ignoring them would magically fix everything.

Skipping over my feelings would make all the problems magically solve themselves.

They assumed I would never walk away. They assumed I would always be right there, living in their shadow.

If I pressed any further, I would be the unreasonable one, the one who would not let things go.

Fortunately, I just had to get through this stretch.

When I remained silent, Brielle reached out to take my hand.

“Alright, alright. You found it, didn’t you? Let’s just let bygones be bygones.”

I murmured a quick hum in affirmation, sidestepped, and pulled my hand back.

She froze for a moment, then closed her fingers around empty air.

“Really? That’s awesome!” Michael gave me a playful punch in the chest.

“You’re the best, Fin!”

He pulled his hand back and said, “Oh, by the way, Bree was trying to cheer me up, so she said she’d take us on a road trip to Southwick.

“She says it’s right by the ocean, with coconut trees everywhere along the roads. You’re coming too, right?!”

Southwick.

Hearing that word made my heart ache.

I turned to Brielle.

Our gazes met.

The warm lamplight illuminated her profile in a soft golden outline.

She had once said she would go to National Service Academy with me, and we would watch the sea together.

Soon, she would head to Preston, and I to Southwick.

After that, we would probably never see each other again.

This trip might be our final goodbye.

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll go pack.”

Rain started pelting the window. It gradually got heavier.

When I came downstairs with my bag, Brielle was already cramming Michael’s suitcase into the last open spot in the back seat.

It wedged in perfectly, square and snug, taking up every last inch of space.

When she was done, her eyes darted between my suitcase and me standing in the rain. She had a troubled expression.

“Fin, there’s way too much luggage. I don’t think we can fit you in.”

The rain was pouring hard, and the wind was howling loudly. I could barely hear what she said.

“Maybe... you could just come next time? It’s not like this is our only opportunity.”

The rear window cracked open just enough for me to see Michael glued to his phone with a smile.

Mom came up from behind me and pulled open the passenger door.

“Seriously? You made your brother cry, and you’re just going to tag along like nothing happened?”

Rainwater trickled down my forehead and into my eyes, stinging with a dull, bitter ache.

So, this was my punishment, then?

First, hand me a little hope, then crush it right in front of my face.

Was it all because I made Michael look bad in front of everyone?

“It’s fine,” I said. My tone was calmer than expected.

“You guys go ahead.”

Before I could say anything more, the car had already pulled away.

The taillights faded into a blur through the rain.

I stood there watching until they disappeared, then turned and headed back.

Rain splashed against my face, but I hardly noticed.

After so many times, my heart had grown number than the cold.

I reached the front door and pulled the handle. It would not budge.

They had locked the door without giving me a key. Or rather, they had simply forgotten I existed.

Chapter 6

I clutched my soaked suitcase to my chest and crouched under the eaves while calling a locksmith on my phone.

I must have looked just like a stray cat that had been abandoned as I huddled in the corner.

The locksmith rode over on his scooter through the pouring rain. He was drenched as well.

He took one look at the door lock and snapped at me impatiently, “Two hundred dollars.”

I rummaged through all my pockets and pulled out a few crumpled fives and tens.

I counted them twice, then a third time. It was still nowhere near enough.

“Sir, could you... cut me a break?”

The locksmith pulled out his tools and replied in an irritated tone, “This is exactly what ticks me off about people like you.

“You live in this fancy place, and you can’t even scrape together two hundred dollars?”

I stopped talking and lowered my head even more.

I really could not come up with the money.

Michael would never find himself in such a pathetic situation.

His monthly allowance was two thousand dollars, while I had to save up every single penny I had.

The lock mechanism turned a few times, and with a click, the door swung open.

The locksmith straightened up and packed away his tools, then casually asked, “Why are you here all by yourself? Where’s your family?”

My voice dropped to barely a whisper as I replied, “They all went on vacation. They forgot I was still outside.”

The locksmith was stunned for a moment.

He closed his toolbox, brushed his hands off, and said, “Alright, forget it. On the house.”

I was taken aback.

“No, I can’t do that! I should still pay you what I owe.”

“For guys like us who work with our hands, popping a lock is nothing. Consider it a small favor.”

When I looked embarrassed, he locked the door again and quickly pried it open again with his tool.

“See? Locked tight, and now it’s open again. Easy.

“Locked, open. It’s nothing, really.”

The door swung back and forth as he laughed cheerfully.

At that moment, I broke down.

It was as though every tear I’d held back for eighteen years was pouring out all at once.

He scrambled, clearly flustered.

“Hey, come on now... no crying, alright? Get inside and take a hot shower. You’ll catch a cold!”

He gently nudged me through the doorway.

Before he left, he turned back and said, “Next time you need a lock popped, call me. It’ll be on the house.”

I watched him walk away. Then, I sank to the floor, pulled my knees to my chest, and sobbed uncontrollably.

Even a complete stranger had offered me a hand when I was at rock bottom.

Yet my own family, the people who were supposed to have my back, had pushed me out into the rain.

I cried for what felt like hours, until my voice went raw and the sky finally cleared.

When it was over, my heart calmed down.

I went upstairs and began packing my things.

There was not much for me to pack. I only took a few changes of clothes and some essential documents.

When I opened the drawer in the corner, I found the diary I had kept all those years.

Page after page, it was filled with the private thoughts of a younger me.

I had written down every little detail, like the day Brielle handed me a bottle of water in the hallway.

Or the time she called my name during a sports meet.

Or that evening when she had said, “It’s getting dark. Let’s walk home together.”

Those fleeting moments had been recorded with painstaking care, as if I were collecting promises that would never be kept.

When I flipped to the last page, my fingers paused.

There was a drawing of three figures. Me, Michael, and Brielle.

The figures stood in a row, hand-in-hand. A crooked tree sat in the middle, and above their heads hung a round, smiling sun.

I stared at that drawing for a long time.

I felt my breath catch when I noticed a detail.

Even in my own drawing, Michael stood dead center.

I could not take it anymore. I tore the page out of the book.

I ripped it into four pieces, then eight, and then a shower of fragments that scattered across the floor.

Then, I tossed the entire diary into a metal trash bin and lit it with a lighter.

The flames devoured everything. All those painstakingly hoarded moments turned to ash and drifted upward, light and weightless.

I watched them burn to the end.

Then, I turned, grabbed my suitcase, and walked downstairs.

I would never again be the nobody standing on the sidelines of someone else’s life.

Chapter 7

In the days that followed, Michael kept sending me messages.

[The food down in Southwick is so sweet. I just can’t get used to it.]

Attached was a photo of an elaborate local meal, including sweet-glazed shrimp, honeyed ribs, and syrupy desserts arranged on delicate white plates.

Two days after, he sent me a video.

The footage was shaky.

Brielle crouched on the beach, her back to the camera, her white dress fluttering in the wind.

She was holding small white shells in her hand and placing them one by one onto the sand.

The camera zoomed in, and the shells spelled out Michael’s name.

Waves crashed in, one after another. Off-screen, Michael laughed and said, “Look how bored your girlfriend is.”

In the video, Brielle looked genuinely happy.

She had once smiled and promised to do so many things with me, and she had given every single one of those promises to someone else.

I kept looking at my phone over and over, watching the screen turn on and off, unable to decide what to do.

Finally, I opened Brielle’s chat box and sent her a text.

[Let’s break up.]

Then, I blocked Michael on WhatsApp.

My decisiveness surprised even me.

The next evening, they came home.

The moment Brielle stepped through the door, she shouted at the top of her lungs.

“Finley, why did you block Mic? He couldn’t even enjoy the second half of the trip because of you!

“Also, what’s this about breaking up?”

After she spoke, she finally realized that the house was empty.

In an instant, she felt a sense of unease wash over her.

Michael called out to her from the doorway.

“Bree, hurry up! Mom and Dad are heading to the courthouse.”

“Fin isn’t home,” she replied hesitantly.

Mom stood outside the door as she said indifferently, “Forget about him.

“Today is the day the divorce is finalized. Let’s take care of our own business first.”

Inside the courthouse lobby, my parents sat side by side on a bench.

They argued fiercely over who would get custody of Michael.

In the end, both sides compromised and worked out a complicated rotating schedule.

Michael would stay at Dad’s place on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays.

He would live with Mom on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays.

On Sundays, both parents would spend the day with him together.

The clerk looked exasperated. “You have another son, don’t you? How are you handling custody for him?”

Mom did not even lift her head as she said, “He’s already eighteen anyway. Legally, I’ve fulfilled my obligation to support him.”

Dad chimed in.

“With his grades, he’ll have to fend for himself from now on. The best we can do is put Mic through school. Mic is the hope of this family.”

Brielle gripped Michael’s hand tightly.

“Don’t worry, Mic. I’ll take care of you through all four years of college. Later on, I’ll—”

Just then, the courthouse lobby’s glass door swung open.

A crowd of people surged in, carrying cameras and holding out microphones.

The lead reporter swept his gaze across the hall and finally locked onto Mom and Dad.

He strode over, barely containing his excitement as he said, “Excuse me, are you two the parents of this year’s state top scorer?!”