Kara A broken, unrepairable bridge. It was standing between me and all the things that I wanted and worked hard to achieve. How the hell was I supposed to cross now? Nothing was going right. Not a damn thing. I spent my life trying to control things as much as I could by working hard and protecting my family. I was following the trail that others had mapped out before me and they came out on the other side successfully. It was far from easy, and I knew that from the beginning. I wasn't complaining. This path was very dangerous with cliffs on both sides and a river of death below where dreams were washed away by a mighty current. I wasn't afraid. I knew I could do it. After all, I followed the map correctly. But then the broken fucking bridge appeared like a blackhole. Now I was stuck—no way to get back where I started and no way forward. The only escape I could see was to jump, but that would be insane. "Kar, should we call Dad?" Dylan asked. Anxiety and fear were in the air, and Dylan and I breathed them in as I sat frozen on my chair and he paced back and forth at the shop after Andrew left an hour ago. I shook my head. "Let's just wait for him." Dad went to deliver a car for a customer and was on his way to pick up car parts on the other end of the city. I didn't want him to get into an accident just in case he rushed home if I told him what happened. "Do you think..." he cut himself off, restless energy coming off him in waves. "Let me handle it," I said, but this time I didn't hear the confidence in my voice. Instead, it trembled. "You and Dad had worked so hard to get the shop where it is now. It's not fair," he said. "Life isn't fair." "Yeah, but maybe, just maybe," he said under his breath, as though he was afraid to utter the words. "Maybe this time it is." I said nothing. My hands felt cold. It felt like my heart had permanently fallen into my stomach. Cameron wasn't answering his phone. I couldn't explain why I was feeling anxious when I watched him leave earlier. All I knew was that I wanted... I wanted a lot of things, but right now I just wanted to see him again. Another hour passed, then another. When the bell on the door jingled indicating someone had entered, Dylan and I both looked up. My despicable mother strolled in, smile in place as she headed toward us. She took off her toque and scarf, stashed them in her pocket. Her short brown hair looked glossy under the lights. "Hi, Dylan. Kara." "Mom, tell me it's not true," Dylan demanded, eyes and voice full of hope. Her smile disappeared. "What's not true?" "That you—" I cut him off. "Do you have partial ownership of the car shop?" Her face fell. "I... yes." "There had been no payments made to you since I took over the books so that doesn't make any sense. Are you lying?" She pursed her lips. It was clear she didn't like the way I was talking to her. Well, tough. She was here to destroy my family's livelihood, even after all the things she did. And didn't do. "No. I'm not lying, Kara." I narrowed my eyes at her. "Then why haven't you gotten paid? I doubt you'll—" "She has shares because I gave them to her." I turned around and found my dad standing at the backdoor of the office. He looked exhausted, but his eyes, I noted, were full of calm anger. "She asked me to give her the shares in exchange for giving full custody of both of you to me. She hadn't been paid because she wanted me to use the money to raise both of you." Which was nothing. The shop couldn't have been making money at the time. I remembered my dad worked other odd jobs to make ends meet and only worked part-time at the shop. We didn't even have employees back then. For as long as I remembered it had just been dad. "So she can technically pay child support without having to lift a finger. Ah, aren't you the clever one? But now it looks like you're here to cash everything in, I guess?" She shook her head, alarm in her eyes, and turned to my dad. "Mike, can we talk?" "That's what I want to ask you." She looked back at us. "Can we talk elsewhere?" "Whatever we need to talk about, Karen, my kids will know." My kids will know. "Andrew said all of you had agreed on the sale. He said that all we have to do is sign the papers. I wasn't made aware that all of you were against it." "He lied," I said. "Mom," Dylan said, his face crumpled in pain. "Tell me it's not true." "You know how hard my life is, Dylan. This money will help me get me started. I need a break. You know that, right?" Dylan's face fell. I wanted to reach out, hold his hand, but he backed away. The look he gave my mother was full of accusation, disillusionment. And heartbreak. I had tried to warn him. This was what I didn't want to happen. "I don't think you are the mom who I thought you were," he choked out. "Dylan—" "Did you only reply to my message because you had this planned all along? I was the opening you needed, wasn't I?" he asked quietly. "Kara was right. You really are selfish. I won't let you take the shop away. It belongs to my family. That doesn't include you. Not anymore." My dad placed his hand on Dylan's shoulder, squeezed. "Dylan, that's enough, son." The bell jingled again, and Andrew walked in, looking like someone had killed his dreams in life. Beside me, my dad tensed. "I dropped the offer! I'm selling it back to you!" He was shouting at me by the time he reached us. "Make sure you pay me the full amount of what we agreed upon. Understood!" "Andrew." There was a warning in my dad's voice. He pushed me behind him. "Mike, you owe me. You owe me!" "Whatever I owed you, I've paid in full and twice more. My gratitude towards you has kept you fed and your teeth intact. Don't abuse it anymore." "You son of a bitch." "Hey!" I yelled. "I sent you to school!" Andrew shrieked at my dad. "I sent you and our sisters to school. I worked my ass off to help keep our parents' farm, kept all of you fed and kept the roof over your heads. I sacrificed every damn thing, even the woman I was going to marry because I had responsibilities! And you say this to me? To me?" "That doesn't give you the right to ruin our livelihood. What you've given, I've paid in full amount and more. You want to talk numbers, Andrew, we can talk numbers." "You prick." I was about to curse him out when my dad held me back. "Everything has a limit and you have reached yours," my dad said calmly. "I'll take anything you dish out, but if you disrespect my daughter again, I swear to the Almighty..."