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Act indifferent. Don’t show how much you care. You can’t get caught.

After the drinks are passed around she kisses her dad on the cheek and he swings the chair in her direction. “How was your night?”

I stiffen with worry, but Mia doesn’t miss a beat.

“It was good. Kira and I watched some Netflix before crashing.”

Rush snorts but covers it with a cough.

“You know…” she begins, then hesitates. “I’m starting to think it would be easier to get a place here.”

I startle in surprise and then act like I dropped something to cover my reaction.

“Really?” Hayes asks in disbelief. “You haven’t said anything to us.”

She shrugs. “Kira brought it up this morning and it has me thinking. I go to school here, work here, the studio is here…” She trails off and he nods.

“You know we don’t want you to go, but we’ll support you either way. If you find a place I’ll pay for it.”

Her eyes widen in shock.

“Thanks, Dad, but … I’d rather pay for it on my own. If I do find a place. If I even want to move out,” she adds.

He shrugs. “The offer still stands.”

“Why?” she ventures to ask. “You and Mom have always pushed us to be independent, to not rely on your money to solve everything.”

“Because,” he answers, “you’ll always be my baby girl and I want you to be safe. A nicer place downtown can be pricey. I’d rather cover the cost, knowing you’re in a good area, than make you pay and be in a shitty rundown, cockroach infested apartment so I’m up all night worrying.”

She laughs at that. “Okay, your argument makes sense. I’ll consider your offer then.”

He tips his head.

She smiles at each of us and leaves the room.

The urge to follow her is strong, strong enough I nearly fall off the couch fighting it.

But I know looking like a desperate puppy in front of her father isn’t for the best.

Luckily, my turn to head into the booth comes next, and for the first time I can’t help but notice Hayes always times it so I’m in the booth while Mia is here—at least most of the time.

Sneaky bastard.

19

Mia

“I heard you’re moving,” Noah announces at the dinner table.

The piece of chicken on my fork dangles halfway to my mouth. “Where’d you hear that?”

“I heard Mom and Dad talking about it.”

“You’re moving?” Adalyn chimes in. “Can I have your room?”

“No, Addie,” I seethe, “you can’t have my room. What’s wrong with yours?”

“Nothing.” She shrugs, fighting a smile. “But I’ve always wanted to say that.”

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