The dreary, overcast sky settled around the buildings, obscuring their height as the car slowly made its way through Boston traffic. The holiday break was here. Soon Natalie would be faced with the truth of her reality. All of her father's money couldn't propitiate the cause any longer. Natalie Rawlings’s time at Harvard was done.

She'd managed to keep the news from both of her parents, but soon they'd hear it, and as it should, it would come from her. In today's world, it was a miracle that they hadn't already heard, either from the gossip-hungry leeches on social media or from the registrar’s office. Of course, there were rules about confidentiality for adult students, but when it came to Anthony Rawlings, rules were at his discretion.

She'd practiced her speech a hundred ways, yet nothing sounded right. She still didn't know how she would tell them—or especially him—that she'd failed. No matter what she said, her fourth semester as a Harvard student wouldn't happen. She wasn't her father nor even her siblings. The world of business and all that it entailed may be in her genes, but it wasn't in her heart. It never had been.

Maybe she was more like her mother.

Life beyond the walls of expectancy was where Natalie's dreams could be found, a sliver of time where she could be herself—no one's daughter or sister, and perhaps not even a woman she yet knew. There was more out in the world than she'd seen. There were people with the freedom to make their own choices and forge their own trails based upon their desires.

She had desires, ones that she couldn't articulate as if they were an unknown part of her, ones yet to be revealed. The frequency of these thoughts had increased to the point that in her mind they'd moved from ideas to wants to insatiable cravings.

As her classes focused more upon the major her father had chosen for her, her ability to concentrate waned until she couldn't find the ambition. It was lost. Instead of seeking help, she gave in to the inevitable, and now her time at Harvard was done.

Natalie gasped as the car skidded, the wheels swerving on the slushy street. As she reached out and her body lunged forward, the seatbelt tugged her backward. It was a metaphor for her life: any attempt at freedom would be met with a gentle but firm reminder that her bubble served the purpose of safety. She had a designated place. It was where she was to stay.

“I'm sorry, Miss Natalie,” the older driver said as his eyes remained steadfast on the road and traffic. “The roads are getting worse.”

She didn't respond. The roads weren't her concern. Currently, her flight to Munich and then onto Nice, as well as the conversation awaiting her once she arrived, topped her list.

Beyond the windows, the snow-lined sidewalks provided a simple strip of wet, salt-covered concrete. The pedestrians huddled beneath their hats and coats as Natalie imagined the crunch crackling under their boots. It wasn't difficult. The floorboard beside her feet was white with pellets.

“Miss, Mrs. Rawlings made your reservations. Your first flight leaves in an hour and a half. This traffic isn't helping. I have your passport and boarding passes. You're TSA PreCheck, but you'll still need to hurry. For international travel, they recommend...”

Hurry. What if she didn't? What if she missed her flight?

Her psychology professor may surmise that missing her flight had been Natalie's plan all along. It was the reason she purposely delayed packing and wasn't ready when her car arrived. A less analytical observer would say she was delayed because she'd spent the majority of her time saying goodbye to her friends, classmates, and roommates.

They knew what her family didn't.

Natalie also knew that her mother would be devastated if Nat missed their family time. Nat's choices seemed unfair: go on holiday and disappoint, or not attend and do the same. Either way, the stress of her failure would be another addition to Nat's growing list of her parents' disappointments.

She thought of her mother. Seemingly fragile yet strong, soft-spoken and yet always heard. Claire Rawlings was as different from Natalie’s powerful father as day was from night, and despite that, in her own way, her mother was the true force.

Natalie gave that more thought. If that were the case—that her mother was the force—then why was Natalie on her way to Christmas in France? Her mother detested the cold.

Since leaving the campus, the soft, cool mist beyond the windows had morphed, first becoming pinging ice and then snowflakes the size of quarters. Each transformation further eclipsed the afternoon sun. Even the twinkling lights on the trees lining the streets failed to fill her with the holiday spirit.

If only she could go somewhere else.

Natalie contemplated her packing. She didn't have gifts for her parents. A sweatshirt from the campus bookstore saying Harvard Parent no longer seemed appropriate. That was fine; there were plenty of shopping opportunities in Nice.

Nat rubbed her gloved hands as her body shivered. This deep-seated chill wouldn't go away. It was more than her present—it was going to be her future too. A chateau in France, even the South of France, may be a few degrees warmer than Boston but most likely equally as dreary. Usually, as was her mother's preference, family holidays were spent in the tropical sun. What had disrupted the normal plans and why was Natalie on her way to France instead of a tropical location?

If she'd taken the time to talk to either of her parents for more than a few minutes here and there, she might know. Then again, she also might have blurted out the truth of her failing grades. Avoidance seemed the best answer until it was no longer possible.

“Miss? You're very quiet. Is everything all right?”

“No, not really.”

“Don't worry about your flight. When you were delayed at the campus, I called the airline. They won't leave without you.”

“Of course they won't. My parents?” Natalie asked.

“They're already in France. They flew privately...”

It was how she was supposed to travel. However, being the youngest had advantages. There wasn't much she couldn't convince her father to do or give. She told him she didn't want to fly privately, so she wasn't. The real truth was that she didn't want to fly to France at all.

The driver continued, “I'm sure you know that your brother...”

Yes, her brother, Nate. She'd read something online recently about his amazing feats in the European markets. Years ago, political changes allowed her father a foothold in the EU that according to the article, her brother has recently capitalized upon. Like father, like son.

Truly, Natalie's older sister's accomplishments were no less impressive than their brother's, though her story contained an interesting, if not scandalous footnote. It was something the family never mentioned.

“I'm sorry,” Natalie said. “I'm sure I was already told, but will everyone be there?”

“Everyone? Your family will all be there. If that's what you're asking.”

More ears to hear her announcement and more eyes to convey her father's disappointment.

The car eased to a stop under the covered entrance before the Boston airport. The driver rushed from his seat and opened her door. Cool air replaced the warmth. She stepped onto the curb.

At least the falling snow was blocked by the roof, even if the cold wind was not. The older gentleman handed Natalie an envelope, Rawlings embossed in the corner. “Your boarding pass and passport, Miss Natalie. Hurry through security. I'll check your luggage.”

“Thank you, Jamison.”

“Miss, I know you expected Mr. Roach. He had some business to attend, but will meet your plane in Nice.”

She had expected him. Where was he that he could have been with her in Boston and will still meet her plane in France? The question was fleeting as she realized that Phil Roach would be just another person to look at her with relentless dissatisfaction as she told her story about flunking out of Harvard.

Taking another step, Natalie squinted. Beyond the covered drive, beyond the signs of different airlines, the ground was quickly becoming covered with a blanket of white. “Do you think they'll delay the flight?” she asked.

“No, miss. They know your father is waiting.”

Normally he didn’t like to wait, but for his baby, Natalie knew he would.