Page 1 of Return Policy

PROLOGUE

SOPHIA

Nine Years Old

“I’m sorry, Sophie Bear. I know you were looking forward to sitting outside,” Dad says as I glare at the rain pouring down in sheets.

“You can’t control the weather, Papa Bear.” I stab the plastic spoon into my ice cream. “It’s fine.”

It is not fine.

“Well,anyways,” Sage, my best friend, mumbles with a mouth full of rocky road, “tell your dad about that epic drawing you did of the soccer player for Friday’s fall showcase!”

“Oh, is that this week?” Dad asks.

Mom would have remembered.

“Yup,” I tell my bowl, mind wandering tomyfavorite picture of a little clay teapot. A few months ago, Chloe, my sister, and her best friend, Leah, were making one in our garage while laughing and singing. Hopefully one day I'll be able to draw their smiling faces too, but for now, that’s what I can do. The sketch reminds me of home—the feeling, not the place.

My twin siblings are nine years older than me, but they never fail to make me feel included and loved. Especially my older brother, Jake. He thinks we don’t notice all the small stuff he does since Mom’s been gone, but I do. I notice every single thing down to the burnt pancakes.They taste better that way anyway.

“I can’t wait.” Dad beams, eating a big bite of his chocolate sundae. A loud ring blares throughout the small shop. He sticks his spoon in the bowl before pulling his phone from his pocket and sliding out of the booth.

“How’s the mint chocolate chip, Joey?” Sage asks, using the nickname she gave me because of my obsession with koalas.You make one horrible Australian zookeeper impersonation and never live it down.

“Everything I dreamed and more.” I grin, fighting off her spoon as she tries to steal some.

Dad clears his throat, interrupting our battle for the bite. “We gotta go, girls.” He chucks his half-eaten sundae in the trash. “Come on.”

“Why?” I ask, eyes glued to the sugary goodness he just wasted. “Can we bring our ice cream?”

“I don’t care, let’s go.” His strange tone has Sage and I sliding quickly out of the booth.

The drive is so quiet I’m afraid to ask where we’re going. My ice cream is turning into soup, and I try to focus on the rain pitter-pattering against the truck to calm my nerves. A flash of lightning followed by a rumbling thunder rattles me to my bones, stealing my sense of security.I hate thunderstorms.I’m surprised Dad even drove in this weather. He always gets on Jake and Chloe about being careful when it's raining outside.

We turn into a large parking lot, passing a bright sign that reads Longwood Hospital.

“Dad?” I ask, my voice trembling as he parks the truck. “Why are we here? What’s going on?”

“Come on, girls,” he says, ignoring my questions and hopping out.Why is he ignoring me?We follow him through the torrential downpour to the emergency room, ice cream bowls in hand. Dad instructs us to sit in the farthest corner of the room with the promise he’ll be right back.

The air conditioning hits my damp skin, sending shivers through my body. My shaking fingers stick to the soggy paper bowl, and I consider looking for a trash can and a bathroom to clean up.But what if I miss something?Dad said to stay right here.My eyes fall to the little plastic spoon clinking to the floor.

“I’ll throw it away,” Sage offers quietly, taking the bowl.

“Thanks.”

A wave of nausea hits me at the scent of the room.It’s too clean.I stare at a hole in the mint-green wall. It’s about the size of a fist.

What made someone so mad?

My dad’s pleading voice snaps my attention to him. “Please,” he begs the doctor. “Please tell me they’re going to be okay.”

My shoulders shake, and a loud bang has me jump in my seat. Jake runs through the emergency room doors like a soaking wet bat out of hell. His panicked face makes my heart beat faster than it ever has before.

Jake is okay.

Knowing my brother is alive and well calms my anxiety momentarily until I hear the words “Chloe,” “Leah,” and “accident.” Then my stomach drops back to my feet.

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