Katherine had been in the car for four hours and her mother hadn't stopped talking once.
"and Richard said the east wing is being renovated so we'll be in the west wing for now, which is fine, it's still massive, you should see the photos he sent, the bathroom alone is bigger than our old apartment—"
Katherine watched the highway blur past. Trees. More trees. A gas station. More trees.
"—and his sons are home for the summer before their final year, so you'll have time to get to know them before classes start, which is good, I think, don't you think that's good?"
"Sure."
Her mother glanced at her. Katherine could feel it without looking.
"You could at least pretend to be excited."
"I'm thrilled."
"Katherine."
"What do you want me to say, Mom?" She finally turned her head. Her mother's fingers were tight on the steering wheel. Fresh manicure. She'd gotten it done yesterday along with her hair, her eyebrows, a facial. Preparing herself. "You're marrying some guy I've met twice. I'm moving into his house. I'm going to his university. I don't know what reaction you're expecting."
"I'm expecting you to be grateful."
"For what?"
"For the opportunity. For the life you're about to have. Do you know how many girls would kill for this?"
Katherine turned back to the window. "Then marry one of them to him."
Her mother didn't respond. The silence lasted maybe thirty seconds.
"His sons play basketball."
Katherine said nothing.
"I told Richard you play. He said maybe you could all play together sometime. Bond."
"I'm not bonding with your boyfriend's kids."
"He's my fiancé."
"Right. Your fiancé who you've known for eight months."
"I've known him longer than that."
Katherine looked at her again. Something in her mother's voice. A flicker of something she couldn't read.
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing. I'm just saying—we didn't just meet. There's history."
"What history?"
Her mother waved a hand. Dismissive. "Old connections. From before you were born. It doesn't matter. The point is, I know him. I know what I'm doing. And I need you to trust me."
Katherine almost laughed. Trust. Her mother had dragged her across three states, pulled her out of her life, away from Marcus, away from Jenna, away from everything, and she wanted trust.
But she didn't laugh. She didn't say anything. Because what was the point?
The decision was made. The ring was on her mother's finger. The house was waiting.
Katherine was just along for the ride.
The house wasn't a house.
Katherine had seen the photos. Her mother had shoved her phone in her face a dozen times—look at the kitchen, look at the pool, look at the garden. She'd nodded and said "nice" and gone back to whatever she was doing.
The photos didn't prepare her for this.
The gate alone took thirty seconds to open. A guard waved them through. A guard. Like this was a compound, not a home.
The driveway curved through trees for what felt like a mile before the house appeared, and when it did, Katherine's stomach dropped.
It was old. Not old like it needed repairs—old like it had been here for generations, like people had lived and died in these walls, like the stones themselves had seen things.
Three stories. Maybe four. She couldn't tell where the main house ended and the wings began. Windows everywhere, dozens of them, and she wondered how many rooms were behind them. How many she'd never even see.
Her mother pulled the car around a circular driveway with a fountain in the center. An actual fountain. With sculptures.
"Well?" Her mother's voice was bright. Performing. "What do you think?"
Katherine thought about their apartment back home. Two bedrooms. A bathroom with a leak they'd never fixed. A kitchen where you could touch both walls if you stretched your arms out.
"It's big."
Her mother laughed like she'd said something delightful. "It's beautiful, Katherine. Say it's beautiful."
"It's beautiful."
The front door opened.
Katherine's chest tightened.
A man stepped out. Tall. Silver hair. Expensive suit even though it was four in the afternoon on a Saturday. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
Richard Ashford.
She'd met him twice. Once at a restaurant where he'd spent most of the dinner on his phone. Once at their apartment where he'd looked around like he was assessing a property he might buy. Both times, he'd been polite. Distant. He'd asked her about school. She'd given short answers. He hadn't pushed.
Now he was walking toward the car, and Katherine realized this was real. This was happening. This man was about to be her stepfather, and this ridiculous mansion was about to be her home.
Her mother was out of the car before Katherine had even unbuckled her seatbelt. She watched through the windshield as her mother rushed to Richard, as he caught her waist and kissed her. It looked practiced. Performed. Like they both knew someone was watching.
Katherine grabbed her phone.
Three texts from Marcus.
Marcus:you there yet?
Marcus:call me when you get settled
Marcus:miss you already ❤️
She typed back: just pulled up. this place is insane. call you later.
A text from Jenna. A voice note, actually. Thirty-seven seconds long. Katherine would listen to it later. Probably Jenna screaming about something—a guy, a party, drama with her roommate. Normal things. Things that felt very far away right now.
She pocketed her phone and got out of the car.
The air was different here. Quieter. No traffic. No neighbors shouting. Just birds and wind and the crunch of gravel under her sneakers.
"Katherine." Richard's voice. She looked up. He was smiling at her now. Still polite and distant. "Welcome. I hope the drive wasn't too long."
"It was fine."
"Good. Good." He put a hand on her mother's back. "Let's get you both inside. Maria will show you to your rooms. Dinner's at seven."
Your rooms. Plural. Katherine didn't know why that detail stuck.
She followed them toward the front door, her suitcase rolling behind her. She'd packed light. Hadn't seen the point in bringing everything when she didn't know what she was walking into.
The inside was worse than the outside. Marble floors. A staircase that split in two directions. Paintings on the walls were actual paintings, not prints. A chandelier that probably cost more than every piece of furniture Katherine had ever owned combined.
A woman appeared. Older. Uniform. Maria, apparently.
"I'll take her bags, sir."
"Thank you, Maria. Show Miss Katherine to the blue room."
Miss Katherine. Like she was a character in a period drama.
"This way, please."
Katherine glanced at her mother. Her mother was already walking with Richard toward another hallway, laughing at something he'd said. She didn't look back.
Fine.
Katherine followed Maria up the staircase.
The blue room was called the blue room because everything in it was blue. Walls. Curtains. Bedding. Even the lamp shades.
It was bigger than Katherine's entire apartment back home.
Maria set her suitcase by the closet—a walk-in, because of course—and turned to her with a small smile.
"Dinner is at seven in the main dining room. Downstairs, left hallway, third door. If you need anything before then, there's an intercom by the bed."
"An intercom?"
"Yes, miss. Just press the button. Someone will answer."
Katherine stared at her. Maria stared back, patient.
"Okay. Thanks."
Maria nodded and left, closing the door softly behind her.
Katherine stood in the middle of the blue room and turned in a slow circle.
This was her life now.
And somewhere in this house, three stepbrothers she hadn't even met yet.
Her phone buzzed.
Jenna. Another voice note. Forty-two seconds this time.
She pressed play.
"BITCH. Okay I just looked up the house on Google Earth. GOOGLE EARTH. It has a Wikipedia page?? The HOUSE has a Wikipedia page. What the fuck. Also I looked up the sons. Katherine. KATHERINE. Why didn't you tell me they look like that. Call me IMMEDIATELY. I need details. Are they there? Have you seen them? I'm losing my mind over here. CALL ME."
Katherine almost smiled.
She typed back: haven't seen them yet. will report back.
Jenna: you better. I'm living vicariously through you now. My dorm smells like feet and my roommate is already annoying. Your life is literally a wattpad story.
Katherine: a nightmare wattpad story.
Jenna: the best ones always are 😏
Katherine tossed her phone on the bed and walked to the window.
The view was ridiculous. Gardens stretching out forever. A pool she could barely see in the distance. And beyond that, trees. Acres of trees.
Somewhere out there, apparently, were stables. Maria had mentioned it on the walk up. "The young masters ride most mornings, if you're interested."
The young masters. Like this was the 1800s.
Katherine pressed her forehead against the glass.
Seven o'clock. Dinner. Third door on the left.
She had two hours to figure out how to survive this.