Julianne felt the chill of the dampening windowpane 195

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sink into her forehead and settle behind her eyes. As the cold seared its way into her brain, she tried to see the ocean through the foggy window. In the periphery of her vision, she saw palm trees bending over themselves. It looked to her like they were trying not to break in two.

Julianne knew the feeling. She thought of all the times during the summer that she’d felt like everything was a mess and she just felt stupid. Deeply, profoundly stupid.

She wished she had appreciated how lucky she was before it all fell apart. Even though she was terrified that her family would lose their house, there had at least been something comforting to fall back on. Chloe had been her best friend. Dad had been tirelessly optimistic.

She’d been caught up in the whirlwind thrill of loving Remi. If nothing else, she’d had things to work toward.

Toward finishing her painting, toward saving the house, toward finding a way to be with Remi. Now there was nothing to run to. Chloe couldn’t even look at her without turning eggplant purple, and Dad would undoubtedly feel the same way when he got back. She’d misjudged Remi, and now the Moores were going to take her home. And, of course, there was the fact that her heart had been torn into millions of microscopic pieces.

Julianne pushed herself up off the cushions and paced through the musty living room, her footsteps keeping time with the raindrops outside the window.

She was moving so quickly that when she looked down, 196

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she saw nothing but a brightly colored trail of hot pink toenail polish. Swiping her tears away wildly, Julianne told herself, I will not cry. Not now. She gazed down at her pajamas, a black sleeveless T-shirt and drawstring pants printed with cartoon sushi rolls, and almost didn’t recognize them. Julianne felt strangely separate from the body they were hanging off of.

Outside, the rain was still pouring down in bucket loads and the wind was shrieking, but Julianne didn’t care. She couldn’t sit around with her racing thoughts for one second longer or something was going to snap. I just need to do something, she told herself. She sprinted up the stairs and made a beeline for her bedroom. Julianne threw on her grubbiest painting clothes. Then, without looking back, she rushed out of her room and bolted down the stairs, barefoot.

She threw herself into cleaning the house from top to bottom, keeping herself focused on the task at hand.

Before she knew it, she was sliding around on the wood floors, rags tied to her knees and feet like one of the orphans in Annie. She polished all of the candlesticks and the silver coffee percolator that probably hadn’t shined since her parents got them as wedding presents.

She even called to rent a steam cleaner for the water stains on the living room rug. Then she did all of her laundry.

Julianne stayed up all night, cleaning and scrubbing, 197

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and when the morning sun shone through the back windows, it was undeniable how beautiful her home was. It was bright and open, yet still cozy. When she scrubbed the windows of the balcony attached to her bedroom, she was literally breathless at the streaks of orange, pink, and lavender reflecting off the ocean as the sun was rising. From the bay window off of Julianne’s balcony, the beach went on forever—at least when she had her back to the Moores’ glass house—and the ocean went even farther. She understood exactly why her mother had known this house would be their home the first time she saw it.

As she tiptoed through the house, Julianne had the strangest feeling that her mom was walking with her.

Every beam of sunlight—bouncing from one surface Julianne had scrubbed to another—seemed to have her mother all over it. Julianne crept into the living room and curled up on the couch, watching as morning spread across the beach. She felt quiet and peaceful for the first time all week.

198

Chapter Twenty-two

!

Julianne smoothed the fringe around the edge of the pillow she was clutching and tried to take deep, cleansing breaths. She could hear her father downstairs and knew it was time to face the music. Chloe was finishing up her shift at the hospital, so Julianne figured it was a good time to throw herself on her father’s mercy, admit that she was a horrible person and a dis-grace to the family, and get disowned. This way, if things went really badly, she could still be out of the house and on her way to join a circus troupe by dinnertime.

Her father was moving his bags from the foyer into his studio, rifling through some papers, when Julianne stuck her head into the room. Her heart was pounding at what could not be a healthy rate, and she was pretty 199

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sure that her knees had stopped working. Their cozy little foyer suddenly seemed menacing and dark. She took a deep breath, counted to ten (which might have been more like a count to fifty), and forced her legs to move forward.

“Hi, Dad. Welcome back. Um, can I talk to you for a second?” Julianne tried to sound upbeat as she slid down onto one of the huge cushions on the window seat, hoping to lose herself in the crevices. “I’m so sorry, Dad, but I have some things I need to tell you.” Mr. Kahn sat next to his youngest daughter.

“What’s wrong, sweetie? Are you okay?” Dad patted Julianne’s back as she took another deep breath and tried not to cry. He looked so kind and worried that Julianne felt like her heart might break all over again. She tried to steady herself for the words that had to come next. Then she took another deep breath and pulled her mop of hair up off of her neck.

Julianne began slowly. “Um, Dad, while you were gone . . .” She paused and looked into her father’s patient green eyes and felt her nerve begin to waver.

“While you were gone, the living room flooded. Everything is mildewed.”

Her father’s eyes moved furtively around the room, from the window seat to the bookshelves and back. “The place does look a little worse for wear,” he noted. “But it doesn’t even smell like mildew in here.” 200

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Julianne felt her cheeks flush with guilt. “I steam cleaned.” She kept her eyes on the hem of her linen patchwork skirt.

“Jules, sweetie, I sense that you’re not telling me the whole story. Did you and Chloe throw some crazy party while I was gone?” Dad’s brow creased and he cocked his head toward his daughter.

Julianne shook her head mutely, her eyes glued to the floor.

Dad continued, “Because I seem to remember another weekend not so long ago when I returned to find there’d been a Slip ’n’ Slide–related mishap in the living room.” His voice trailed off.

“That was not a party!” Julianne blurted out. “That was performance art!” To this day, Dad had never made his daughters replace any of the vases broken during that ill-fated event, out of respect for their artistic vision.

Julianne felt a small smile creeping onto her face and didn’t try to hold it back. Smiling felt good after a week of being frozen in grief. A few tentative giggles welled up in her throat and escaped her lips.

Then, all of a sudden, the floodgates opened and all of the desperation, guilt, and sadness that Julianne had been pushing down came rushing out of her in a jumble.

“I didn’t mean to betray the family, Dad!”

“Julianne, what are you talking about? Don’t be silly!

You could never betray us.” Dad’s voice was comforting, 201

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but Julianne also heard confusion in it. She heard a clicking noise beyond the living room, but she was too focused on her confession to investigate further.

“No, really, I did. I never meant to, but I did!” Julianne continued.

“Jules, I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, but I do know that you could never betray us. I know how much you love your sister and me.” The kindness in Dad’s voice sent Julianne over the edge. In between sobs and gasps, the entire story of her summer romance came pouring out.