I don’t want to be here.

Take me back to Columbus!

I don’t want to be driving in this overstuffed car to a place I never asked to go to.

No one ever gave me a say.

My sisters and I got home from school about three weeks ago and were told, “Hey, we’re moving to Armitage.”

The smile on Dad’s face was giddy and triumphant.

“Where?” My twin sister, Max, frowned.

“Armitage, California. It’s near Bakersfield.”

That’s when my jaw dropped. “California?”

“It’s going to be an adventure.” Mom’s forced smile was BS.

Adventure my ass!

They were basically telling us that we had to leave the only city we’d ever lived in to move to some place on the other side of the country.

Chloe glances across the car at me, her dubious frown telling me I’m not alone. She’s a year younger than Max and me, but we three girls have been best friends for as long as I can remember. Thank God they’re here too.

Stupid Dad with his stupid job promotion.

He’s been wanting a chief of police position for years. He likes being in charge, and when Mayor Carter offered him the opportunity to take care of the local police force in Armitage, he jumped at it.

“I’ve never even heard of Armitage,” Max muttered after Dad’s bombshell announcement.

“It’s a small town that needs us, Max. Don’t worry, they have a decent high school…and a baseball team. Mayor Carter and his assistant are making sure we have a smooth transition. They’re finding us a house, they’re—”

“Can’t you just go and we join you after graduation?” I thought it was a logical enough solution, but the thunderous look I scored told me this was non-negotiable.

“We’re a family.” Dad’s stare bore a hole straight through my chest. “We stick together no matter what, and I’m not shortchanging myself six months of time with my daughters when two of you will be leaving for college after the summer.” Dad blinked like he was fighting off some kind of emotion, then cleared his throat. “We are going to make a great home for ourselves in Armitage. You’ll see.”

Mom gave Dad a tight smile as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. She wasn’t into it. She was smiling to keep him happy, and we just had to go along for the ride.

I was tempted to keep arguing, but I’d never get away with it. Dad wouldn’t leave without us, and even though my mind was buzzing with ideas of how I could stay in Columbus, I couldn’t suggest any of them. I wouldn’t bail on my sisters. I was the oldest. They needed me.

Max, my younger sister by 36 minutes, was taking this horrible shift in circumstances better than anyone. She’s always been like that. Just takes things in stride, acting like she couldn’t care either way.

She cares. Her hands are fisted in her lap right now. She totally cares.

I glance at her blue-green eyes, so similar to mine. Everything about us is identical, except for the small birthmark on my right shoulder and the faint scar on Max’s chin. She got it trying to surf down our stairwell on a really big piece of cardboard. Of course Mom and Dad hadn’t been home, and of course I’d had to walk her to the emergency room with Chloe blubbering beside me.

“So much blood,” she kept whimpering.

Chloe never does great with blood.

I peer around Max and catch my younger sister’s eye again.

“It’s going to be okay,” I mouth.

She scoffs and shakes her head, pulling her sweater sleeves over her hands and gazing out the window.

We’ve been driving for forty minutes. The car we picked up at Bakersfield Airport is cruising along like it doesn’t know how badly none of us want to be in it.

Except Dad, of course.

He’s grinning, excited for his promotion and this great opportunity.

He knows the mayor—Milo Carter—from way back. They went to college together and four weeks ago, they met up at some convention or something and Milo told him he was looking for someone to take over the Armitage police department. Dad jumped at the chance. It has seven officers altogether, and Dad will be running the place—something he’s always wanted.

I spot a sign up ahead. It’s chipped and fading, but I can still make out the letters.

Armitage — 5 miles

This is it. I’m about to meet my freaking doom.

Dad said I was being overly dramatic when I said that, but come on! I’ve got six months left until I graduate high school, which means he’s expecting me to enter a brand-new school in a brand-new town, senior year. If that’s not horrifying I don’t know what is.

Dad has no idea how much he’s asking of us. He’s being a selfish prick if you ask me, but I’ll never get away with saying that to his face.

I had to break up with my boyfriend to come here. Patrick and I decided it didn’t make sense to try for the long-distance thing. We were going to break up over the summer anyway, as we hadn’t applied to any of the same colleges. I shed a few tears, but to be honest, I was probably crying more over having to leave our club baseball team and the friends I’d made on it. It was really unusual to have an all girls’ team, but Columbus had one club that did. We were one of the strongest teams in the country. We made the national finals two years running. I’m going to miss traveling around and being part of something so unique and special.

Biting my lips together, I try not to lament the fact that Dorothy Peters got to take over my role as captain. I try not to think about all the practices and games and parties I’ll be missing out on.

I have to focus on what’s ahead.

Gripping the back of Mom’s seat, I lean forward and peer over her shoulder as the outskirts of Armitage come into view.

My stomach sinks even further as I take in the rundown buildings, unkempt yards, and telltale signs that this little town is not on America’s Top 50 Places to Live. A guy in a ripped jacket limps along the edge of the road, a cigarette pinched between his dirty fingers. I glance across the street and take in the crooked fences, the bars on the windows, and the smashed glass littering the sidewalk.

Max stretches forward between the seats and perches her elbows between my parents’ heads. A dirty dog scampers across the road and Dad brakes to let it pass. It barks while a cat hisses from beneath a collapsing porch. My twin’s long, oval face puckers with surprise, her dark eyebrows wrinkling as she flops back into her seat.

“Great,” she mutters. “We’ve moved to the butthole of America.”

Chloe snorts, then slaps a hand over her mouth to hamper the giggles while Mom rolls her eyes and Dad throws a stern look over his shoulder.

“That’s enough, Maxine. This town needs us. We’re going to make it beautiful again. That’s why I’m here. Mayor Carter needs my help.”

Max’s jaw locks and she throws me a look that gives away a little of what she’s feeling.

I give her an empathetic smile and squeeze her knee. She doesn’t need to know how badly I want to rip the door from its hinges, roll out of the car, and start running back to the airport.

My nerves ease as we head into town. We came in via a back route and as we hit the “thriving” downtown area, things start to pick up. The shops along Main Street are a little cleaner and less decrepit than the northwest side of town.

“See, it’s not so bad,” Dad murmurs.

“Why didn’t you take us in through this main road?” Max points ahead to what is obviously meant to be the main arterial into town.

“I wanted to see what I’m going to be dealing with.” Dad’s expression is grim as he turns off Main Street and heads southeast.

“Shouldn’t you have done that before you packed up your family?” Max mutters softly enough that only I can hear her.

I tell her I agree with a quick eyebrow raise, then focus my gaze back out the window.

The streets are a little nicer here. A few trees are growing along the road, their roots creating large cracks in the concrete sidewalk.

A girl with black pigtails is riding her scooter down the edge of the street, singing away at the top of her lungs. Chloe’s lips twitch with a grin as she cranes to watch the little girl as we drive past.

The houses in this part of town aren’t so derelict. There are no fences between properties. Most of the front yards are mowed and there are no bars on the windows.

Dad signals right with his blinker and we pull into a short driveway.

“Here we are.” He switches off the engine and jumps out, running around the car to open Mom’s door.

I shoulder mine open and gaze at our new house.

If my stomach was sinking before, it’s now puddling around my ankles.

Our home in Columbus was a classy, two-story brick house. My parents bought it when Max and I were only one. We moved in two months before Chloe popped out and we made it our home.

Now this is our home—a single-story, olive-green plaster box.

“I’m sure it looks better on the inside,” Dad murmurs, taking Mom’s hand and walking her up to the front door, trying to coax a smile out of her. “It’s okay, Kristin. Milo assured me he’d arrange something nice.”

She harrumphs but doesn’t say anything. I bet she’s thinking, Thank God we still have our house in Columbus!

Mom refused to put it on the market, arguing that we might need it in case things didn’t work out in Armitage.

“Kristin,” Dad’s voice went low. “We’re going to need money for a house in Armitage. We can’t handle two mortgages.”

“We are not selling this house! You’ve just scored yourself a promotion and a pay raise!”

“The pay raise isn’t that big! And with our current situation, I doubt we can stretch that far.”

“Fine, then we’ll rent this place out, and rent something for ourselves in Armitage.”

“Renting is such a waste of money. Think about this, Krisi! Houses in Armitage cost much less than the houses here. We could make some decent money. We could—”

“I am not budging on this, Reece!” Mom slammed their bedroom door shut and I didn’t hear the rest of the argument. I still don’t know what Dad meant about our current situation. Mom’s been in a high-flying job ever since I was a toddler, so I always figured the financial thing was never an issue. Maybe the mortgage on our Columbus home is bigger than I thought. Or maybe college is weighing on their minds. Funding three daughters through higher education is going to cost them a bomb, which is why Max and I have been gunning for scholarships. Even just a little financial aid will help.

Mom’s been super uptight since the move was announced. I’m actually really surprised that she’s gone along with hardly a protest. Giving up her job like that seems out of character for her. She’s a strong, independent woman, and isn’t afraid of battling it out with Dad when she needs to.

I guess she won the house fight. Our beautiful home in Ohio is currently standing empty while a friend of Mom’s works to find the perfect tenants. To say Mom’s being fussy about who moves in is an understatement.

I bet she’s secretly hoping it stays empty. That way, when everything falls apart here, we can shift back at a moment’s notice.

I gaze up at the basketball hoop above the garage. The net is falling off and the right hand corner of the backboard is missing.

Chloe swallows beside me and I reach for her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s only a rental, Chlo-Chlo. If we hate it, we’ll just find something else, right?”

She doesn’t answer me, so I gently tug her up the front path.

Holding my breath, I follow my parents inside and glance into the living room on my left and the dining room on our right.

“The moving van is due here in the next hour, girls, so go find your rooms and start figuring out where you want to put your stuff,” Mom calls from the kitchen.

I walk through the dining room and poke my head into the serving window. The kitchen is small and shadowy, with dark green counter tops and faded wooden cupboards.

“We’ll make it our own.” Mom’s smile is tight again, and all I can do is give her a lame thumbs-up.

“What!” Max shouts from the hallway.

I rush out of the dining room and make my way to the back of the house, skidding to a stop behind her.

She’s standing outside a small bedroom looking incredulous. “That’s the bigger room?”

Chloe chews her lower lip and peeks into the small space. “Mine’s the size of a closet, if that helps at all.”

“You don’t have to share!” Max’s voice pitches.

I don’t know what she’s so worried about. I’m the one who should be complaining. Sharing with Max is a whole new type of torture. She’s a sloppy, cluttered mess.

But we drew straws and Chloe won. So she gets her own room, and we have to lump it.

I squeeze my twin’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Maxy. We’ll make it work.”

“You’re going to hate me by the time we graduate,” she mutters over her shoulder. “You know how much my messes piss you off. I want to be able to relax in my own room, and no offense, but you make that impossible, you little neat freak.”

I grin at her teasing and wrap my arms around her. “We’ll make it work.”

She grunts and I pull back, pasting on a smile as I slip past her to check out the closet space.

Thank goodness we’re not the type to have hundreds of pairs of shoes and an outfit for every occasion. Max and I should be able to squish in our stuff between us. It’ll be okay.

I keep telling myself that as I survey the room, trying to ignore the brown spots on pale green carpet and the spider web stretching across the windowsill.

Who am I kidding?

This is going to be all kinds of difficult.

It’s so much worse than I expected.

What the hell has Dad pulled us into?