Page 17 of No Headlines Please

But now, I simply had to know.

I reached into my pocket and yanked out my phone. Desperately, I started scrolling, pulling up Tessa's page, knowing exactly what I wanted to see.

Miami. Work. Everything's fine.

My stomach tightened. Nothing about Miami.

And yet, at first glance, her page looked pretty normal, with Tessa's typical clean, professional posts. A recent client launch. A polished brand teaser with one of those captions that sounded effortless but probably took an hour to write. A promo for an upscale spa I could never afford.

The dates caught up with me before anything else.

I slowed, scrolling back up to be sure I hadn't missed something. But there it was again – the last post, sitting quietly at the top of her feed.

It was dated April fourteenth.

The day before the flight.

I stared at it for a long moment, letting out a slow, uneasy breath.

I reminded myself that Tessa wasn't the type to document every hour of her day. She was private and focused – the kind of person who went on a work trip and, you know, actually worked.

I tried to think. Maybe her internet was spotty?

I almost rolled my eyes. In Miami?

Yeah, right.

My thumb hovered over the screen again.

If I truly wanted to know, there was one other place I could check.

I just didn't want to, that's all.

Damn it.

Bracing myself, I pulled up Mom's page.

A photo from some charity luncheon filled the screen. Mom was front and center, smiling like she owned the place, with a table full of elegant people I didn't know.

The caption read, "So grateful for everything I've built. Stay fabulous!"

Technically, Mom hadn't built anything. She'd inherited a slice of a timber fortune ages ago.

The money had long run dry, but this had never stopped her from pretending otherwise.

I scanned the next post – this one from a boutique she surely couldn't afford. She was gushing about "timeless pieces" and had included a carefully angled selfie with enough filters to sand off a decade at least.

I scrolled again, slower this time, and finally saw it – a photo of Tessa smiling at the beach. This photo had no filters.

It didn't need them.

My sister was absolutely gorgeous – with long blonde hair, baby blue eyes, a perfect body, and a smile that always turned heads.

Sometimes, standing next to her, I felt just a little invisible – until Mom pointed out my latest flaw and fixed that problem fast.

I let out a bitter laugh. Growing up, there were some days, I swear, invisible would've been an improvement.

I read the caption that accompanied the photo. "So proud of my girl! Taking Miami by storm. A big new branding project. Tropical beverages this time! She's a real go-getter!"