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Does she know about my parents? Yes. It’s hard to hide having convicted felons that spent years in prison as parents, even if I’ve never shared full details on how they ended up there. As far as I know, Grace has never looked into it, even though enough online snooping would tell her anything she could want to know.

That’s just another reason I love her, though. She has respected my desire to never look back. Just before I started college, my parents were charged and arrested. Right after that, Sylvester Sterling broke my heart. By the time I met Grace later that year, Sly was someone who I desperately wanted in my rearview mirror, and my parents… they were busy negotiating a plea deal to minimize their prison sentences to only a few years. That’s another part of why I dropped out of college.

My parents were the reason I was majoring in business. They wanted me to help run Rio Ski—the now, long-defunct and bankrupt ski resort just outside of Sterling Springs. Single-handedly, they mismanaged it into the ground, committing fraud along the way, and making me an outcast in our hometown.

Thankfully, being away at college, far from the drama unfolding in my small hometown, I realized I didn’t want anything to do with that degree or their plan for me. So, the summer after my freshman year, I rented an adventure van—something I’d always wanted to do since the first time I saw one roll through Sterling Springs. That’s how I fell in love with this carefree way of living and never looked back. I wanted to get away from everything and never revisit that chapter in my life. Grace, who had become my best friend at that point, respected that—never once trying to pry.

I’ve never told Grace the name of the town I grew up in, and she’s never questioned me about it. I love her for that, but right now I feel guilty because she doesn’t realize that while she just met Sisi this summer, I’ve known the youngest Sterling sibling her whole life. She was almost like a little sister to me. In fact, when I visited Grace in Wyoming last winter, I tiptoed around town when I realized that Sisi’s two oldest brothers were now business partners with TJ. I did end up talking with Sutton and Slade, but managed to keep our past connection a secret from Grace.

I make a mental note to tell Grace all of this because she deserves to know. At this point, I’ve ripped that Band-Aid off. I’ve come back to this town, and even seen Sly, as awkward and tense as it was. If I can do that, I can open up—even if it’s just a little bit—and let her into my past.

My stomach growls and lets me know that will have to wait, because right now, I need food.

It was late when I got in last night, and just like when I was a kid, there are basically no late-night food options in Sterling Springs, immediately making me miss my van. Normally, I move a few steps from my bed to my kitchenette to make myself some eggs or avocado toast for breakfast. Since I don’t have access to my van right now, I’m going to have to find something to eat elsewhere. I vaguely remember that the front desk did have coffee, and I saw the unmistakable motel donut plate set up. Maybe if I’m lucky and I can pry myself out of this surprisingly comfortable bed soon, I can get to the lobby and score some of this morning’s fresh donuts. If not, I’m going to have to brave the townspeople and go to the diner or the grocery store.

I close my eyes and nuzzle into my pillow while I weigh my options. The little peace and quiet that my pillow offers only lasts a few seconds before the loud thud of a car trunk closing outside my room reminds me that I’m not getting any more sleep today. The loud shriek of kids, presumably being corralled into the back of a minivan only confirms that.

Groaning, I toss off the comforter and crawl out of bed. Weighing up my momentous decision for food options, I opt for the easiest and least stressful—donuts at the front desk. It’s the closest to my room and requires the least amount of work to make myself look almost functional. I throw on my big girl pants—more accurately leggings—and a hoodie, and walk out of my room into the cool morning air. The wave of nostalgia that hits me when I breathe in that familiar air, even after avoiding this place for so long, is startling. It’s nearly as jarring as it was to see Sly last night. I try to ignore all the feelings it stirs up in me and instead focus on the short walk past the pool to the motel lobby.

Even seeing the pool is a surreal reminder that I’m at The Silver Peak Motel, the one that’s now run by Sly’s little sister. After Grace came down to New Mexico, she told me all about the motel they stayed at, which was run by Sisi, and how cool the remodeled rooms with a mid-century modern vibe were.

Mrs. Sterling always did a good job running it, but this place was never that nice growing up. I can already tell by the revamped rooms and new landscaping by the pool that Sisi is putting her personal touches on it. As much joy as that brings me, I’m glad she wasn’t working at the front desk when I got here last night. I don’t know if I could have handled back-to-back reunions.

Stepping into the lobby, I see more of those little touches that I was too tired to notice last night. Nice ceramic planters and wood-framed leather chairs sit in the corner of the small room, and the brushed brass and geometric opal pendant lights throughout all scream of the youngest Sterling’s eclectic taste.

My stomach has seemingly sprouted its own very vocal personality today. It growls at the sight of the plate of donuts next to the coffee carafes along the counter by the vintage front desk that’s clearly been refinished. I beeline for them like the feral little trash panda I am this morning. I’m pleasantly surprised when I see the assortment of sugary, delicious donuts and pastries that I can tell are from Maribel’s bakery and sandwich shop down the street. One look at the apple fritter and I just know it’s like the ones I ate every weekend growing up.

I don’t even bother with a plate or napkin. I snatch that fritter and take the biggest bite I can. The moan that escapes my donut-filled mouth doesn’t even do this apple goodness justice. It tastes exactly like I remember—maybe even better—but that might be my stomach talking, and I’m not going to argue.

“Oh my god,” a feminine voice squeals from behind me. “Your hair, Josie, I love it!”

I turn around slowly, trying to swallow the massive bite of donut in my mouth before confirming the source of the very perky voice. When I turn around, Sisi is leaning against the front desk watching me with a giddy expression.

“Thanks,” I mumble, trying but failing to not let any crumbs fall out of my mouth. I give her a nervous wave. I don’t know exactly what to say because I haven’t seen her in years, and there are honestly so many things I do want to talk to her about. “It’s good to see you, Sisi.”

My eyes roam over her, and I notice that, like me, her once long hair is cut shorter. Part of me wonders if that was a post-getting-left-at-the-altar choice, but I feel like now is not the right time to ask. She’s a couple of years younger than Sly and me, but she’s very much grown into a gorgeous woman. Unlike her three brothers, she definitely didn’t get the height gene because we’re still about the same height.

She waves dismissively before walking over to me, and before I can prepare myself, I’m wrapped up into a bone-crushing hug that I wouldn’t have expected from someone her size. “I lost it when I saw Josephine Hare on the guest list this morning. I’m going to have to give Cat a piece of my mind for not telling me the second after you called.”

I hug her back with my free hand and must admit it feels good to rip off yet another emotional Band-Aid. She finally lets go and looks me up and down—her eyes landing on the half-eaten donut still in my hand. She hitches her thumb over her shoulder toward the door. “Come on. The diner has a new owner, and their food has really improved. I heard you got in late, and I’m sure you already realized that nothing was open besides The Hatch, which doesn’t have food. Some things never change.”

“Oh, no.” I shake my head. “I don’t want to impose or crash your breakfast.”

She beams at me. “You would never be imposing. We could chat and catch up there, if you want?”

I rock on my feet, not sure if I’m ready for that much social interaction before I’ve even had a sip of coffee. Then my mouthy stomach betrays me and growls so loudly I know she must have heard it. Sisi arches a brow and smirks at me.

I huff a laugh. “Alright, you win. I’ll come. Can I get a shower and change though?”

“Of course! Yes! Do whatever you need. I’m just waiting on Jess to get in so she can cover the desk.”

“So…” I hold the warm mug of coffee in my hands and look across the booth at Sisi. It’s the same booth, right by the front door and cash register, that we sat in so many times growing up. It’s the booth where the Sterling family would have their Monday dinners—the ones I tagged along to as an extension of the Sterling family and later, as Sly’s girlfriend. Sitting here now is definitely bringing up a mix of emotions that I generally try to avoid.

She flashes me an awkward, but genuine smile that tells me this is probably as surreal for her as it is for me. “Yeah, so…”

“I, um.” I swallow and look anxiously around the old diner on Silver Street. “I’m sor⁠—”

“I’m sorry.” She blurts out the awkward apology at the same time as me.