Chase wavered back and forth on unsteady feet. "Alone at last," he proclaimed with a sweep of his arm. "Hey, your apartment's nice."

He took a step forward but she held up a hand. "Stop right there and make it quick. What is it you want to tell me?"

"Is Will your boyfriend now? Hey, maybe he’ll be my brother-in-law. Half-brother-in-law. If you have kids I’ll be an uncle. Half-uncle? Is that a thing?” He gave her that quirky grin that kind of reminded her of her own.

She tried hard not to roll her eyes. "Get on with it, Chase."

"It’s big, Merry. A big secret. I'm kind of risking my internship to tell you." He sniffed the air. "Do you have any food? I haven't eaten all day."

She marched into the kitchen and grabbed some cartons of leftover Chinese food from her refrigerator. She found a grocery bag and shoved the little white boxes inside. She carried it out to Chase, who was now surveying her apartment as if he belonged there. She thrust the bag at his chest.

"There you go. Takeout. As in, take it out of my apartment after you tell me what you've got."

He sniffed the bag appreciatively. "I love Chinese food. That’s another thing we have in common, wow. So. I found out something you're not going to like."

"What? You’re driving me crazy here."

"It's about the op…op…opioids investigation."

"I'm not on that story anymore."

"I know that. Everyone's talking about how Douglas doesn't think you can do it. But don't worry, I know you can."

An uneasy sensation stole over her, as if her power was leaching out of her. She'd worked so hard to earn respect at the Gazette. And she had—until Douglas came along. "It's hard starting over with a new boss," she said in a weak voice.

"Uh-huh. Well, Douglas is going to publish a big exposé about the opioids. He's using all your research. He asked me to set up some social media stuff in advance, that's how I know."

"What? When?"

"I don't know exactly when. Probably soon.”

She stared at the floor, the nubby texture of her rug blurring. Could Douglas do that? Would she have any recourse? And what did he have against her, anyway—other than the obvious. Female, biracial, somewhat insubordinate—could be any of the above. Or something else entirely.

“I did good, right? Us Merriweathers have to stick together,” said Chase. “Can I stay and eat?" He looked hopefully at her couch.

She considered him for a long moment. As drunk as he was, she hated to send him back to the street.

"Fine, you can stay and eat. I'll make you some coffee. Then you need to go home."

"Home? What home?"

"The Goodnight Moon. That's where you're staying, aren't you?"

He screwed up his face. "Not anymore. I'm out of money."

"What?" That didn't even make sense. Chase was the only child of a multi-millionaire. "What are you talking about?"

"They cut me off. Dad didn't want me to come to Jupiter Point to find you. Now they want me to go back to New York, and they cut off my credit cards until I do. They try to control everything. But they can’t control me wanting a sister."

A shaft of hurt slammed through her. She barely heard anything he said after the part about “Dad” not wanting him to find her. Her own father was so adamantly against her that he cut Chase off? "Why?" she whispered.

Still holding the bag of takeout, he tilted his head. "Why what?"

"Why don't they want you to know me?"

"I guess they're embarrassed. I don't know. It's stupid, because you're great. I keep telling them that." Those eager puppy dog eyes blinked at her. "But they don't care what I think. They just want me to go back."

She swallowed hard, the pain rippling through her in waves. "You should go back."

"What? But we've barely even talked. This is like the first time. That's not fair."

"Fair? What does fair have to do with anything?" All the resentment from her childhood boiled over. "Don't even talk to me about fair."

"Okay, okay, don't be mad. I'm kind of drunk, okay?"

"Oh, that's just great. So it's all okay because you're drunk? Look, do you know why I didn't want to see you?"

"No. I'm nice. I'm not like my parents."

"Oh my God. Just shut up and listen. It's not about you. I knew this moment would come, when I'd feel all that horrible rejection all over again. Like I'm nothing. And I know you don't mean it. I know you're not the one who didn't want me. Maybe you're different from your father. My father. But it still hurts. Can you get that?"

He stared at her, scrunching his forehead into creases of confusion. "Yes? Maybe?"

"How would you know what it feels like to be rejected for something you can't do anything about? I am what I am." She spread her arms apart, indicating her skin, her body, her entire self.

"He doesn't even know you. Me, he knows. And he doesn't like me. At all. Says I have no amp—ambition." Chase shoved his hands in his pockets, looking utterly miserable. "I'm a loser to him. Too nice, he always says."

"Oh." Well damn, now she felt bad for him. Maybe growing up with everything wasn't all it was cracked up to be. "There's nothing wrong with nice."

He blinked owlishly and swayed back and forth again. "Wait, are you being nice now?"

She threw up her hands. "What am I going to do with you now? You're drunk as a skunk, I can't let you drive. You can't stay here. You ruined my date with Will."

"I can sleep in my car. That's what I've been doing." He staggered a bit. "Food is good though. Thanks for the food."

Oh hell. She surveyed him dubiously. "You've really been sleeping in your car?"

"My BMW."

She heaved a sigh. "Why is it that as soon as I start to feel bad for you, you say something that pisses me off?"

"Maybe because I'm your little brother?" he asked hopefully.

She laughed. "Nice try, but I don't think that's it. You can sleep on my couch tonight. But just for tonight. And just because I'm being nice. It doesn't mean we're best friends all of a sudden. And then you need to go back to New York."

"Why?"

"Because that's where you belong."

He wiped the back of his wrist across his forehead. "That money was for you. At the airstrip. I wanted to find it for you."

"Excuse me?"

"So you wouldn't hate me. I wanted a finder's fee, for you."

Torn between bemusement and unwilling affection, she shook her head at him. "I don't need money from you, Chase. You're such a goofball."

"I learned a poem for you, too. Can't remember it now though." He yawned so hugely that he staggered.

"Oh geez." With a roll of her eyes, she took his arm and guided him toward the couch. "Come sit down, and tomorrow we'll look into getting you a ticket home."

"But why?" he said again, as he plopped onto the cushions.

Exasperated, she snapped, "Because I'm your big sister and I'm telling you to." Then she smiled and ruffled his hair.

He grinned up at her. "I heard you! You said it! You're my sister!"

The doorbell rang, reminding her of the pizza she'd ordered. "We're about to find out how deep the family resemblance goes. How do you feel about pizza?"