Chapter 6 Final Maneuvers Before the Rift

"Exactly," David said, handing Grace a drink. "Just ignore her. Once she realizes nobody's paying attention, she'll get bored and back off on her own. Here. Have something."

"Thanks, David."

A month slipped by.

Emily's fracture had been severe enough to keep her hospitalized for the full four weeks before the doctors cleared her for discharge. She still needed crutches to walk.

But the last place she wanted to go was back to the Johnson mansion.

Joseph had come by to complete her final discharge checkup. After a month of seeing each other nearly every day, the two had naturally fallen into an easy friendship.

"Not ready to leave?" he teased, flipping through her chart. "Don't tell me you've gotten attached to this place."

"I want to find my own apartment." Emily shifted slightly, her tone serious despite the awkwardness in her expression. "I don't really know anyone in Sunrise City, and I'm scared of getting scammed. Would you be able to help me out?"

"Finding listings? Sure, no problem. How soon do you need something?"

"Yesterday," Emily said. Every hour inside the Johnson mansion felt like one too many.

The past month had been quieter than usual. The three Johnson brothers had taken Grace on a beach trip, which meant the house had been blessedly still. She'd been able to heal without the constant noise.

She'd just scrolled past Samuel's Instagram. They were coming home today.

Her stomach tightened at the thought. She had no desire to walk into the middle of their reunion, but she couldn't afford to burn every bridge either. The settlement and medical arrangements she'd negotiated were still on the line.

"Alright. I'll reach out when something comes up," Joseph said.

Emily went back to the Johnson mansion.

She pushed open the front door to find Grace at the center of it all — her three brothers gathered around her, laughing and talking over each other. The room was warm and loud with the kind of easy affection Emily had never quite been part of.

The moment she stepped inside, the laughter stopped.

Just like that, the whole room went quiet. She might as well have walked into the wrong house.

"Emily, you're back!" Grace brightened immediately, her smile wide and open. "I brought you something from the trip."

"Don't bother." Emily's voice came out flat. "You people tried to pressure me into donating a kidney without giving me anything in return. If I start accepting gifts, who knows what it'll cost me next time."

That snapped something in Mark. "Emily, that is enough." His voice cracked like a whip. "You deliberately trashed Grace's reputation, had her hauled in by the police, squeezed a ridiculous settlement out of this family — and now you walk back in here with that attitude? What exactly do you think you're owed?"

"Mark, stop." Grace's eyes glistened. She touched his arm gently. "Please."

"Don't baby her," David said coldly. "You baby her and she just pushes further. Give it time — she'll cook up another drama the second she feels ignored."

Samuel didn't even bother to look at Emily.

She didn't mind at all. She turned and headed upstairs.

That same afternoon, Joseph called.

"Found a place. Move-in ready whenever you are."

"That's great." The relief in her voice was quiet but real. "Thank you."

"Want me to connect you with a moving crew while I'm at it?"

Emily paused for half a second, then said, "If you've got someone reliable, I'd really appreciate that."

She found time to go see it in person — a one-bedroom in a mid-rise downtown, compact and clean, exactly enough for one person. It suited her perfectly.

She signed the lease on the spot.

Joseph locked down a moving crew not long after, then texted to ask when she wanted to schedule it.

Emily replied: [Tomorrow works.]

The next morning, she'd barely gotten out of bed when her phone rang. A number she didn't recognize.

"Ms. Johnson? This is your moving crew — we're about ten minutes out. How much stuff are we looking at?"

"Not much." Emily glanced around the room.

Once she'd packed everything, it came to two or three bags at most. A single van would handle it easily. She'd already told the crew as much when she'd booked them.

She got ready quickly, grabbed her crutches, and headed downstairs.

She made it as far as the living room before she felt it — the weight of every pair of eyes in the house turning toward her at once.

"Emily, are you seriously —" Grace's brow furrowed, her voice shading into something almost hurt. "The Johnsons have never treated you poorly. Why would you do this to yourself?"

Emily genuinely had no idea what she was supposed to have done. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play innocent." David's composure broke. "I thought you were just rough around the edges. I didn't realize you had absolutely no self-respect."

"There's something seriously wrong with all of you." Emily didn't wait for a response. She walked toward the front door.

The movers were waiting outside, hovering a little uncertainly near the entrance.

"Emily!" Grace's eyes flooded with tears in an instant. "Is this because we went to the beach without you? Because we already paid you — isn't that enough?"

Emily had every intention of ignoring her, but Grace kept going, and the words kept pulling at something frayed and worn thin. She turned and looked at her, cold and direct. "Grace. Can you please stop talking?"

Grace went rigid, her eyes wide and wet with wounded disbelief.

"Emily, that is way out of line." Mark came down the stairs in three sharp strides. "Apologize to her. Right now."

"I'm busy." Emily nodded for the movers to follow her toward the staircase.

Samuel moved fast, stepping forward and clamping a hand around one of the mover's forearms. The tendons in his wrist stood out, his grip hard enough to whiten his knuckles. "Emily. You think you can pull this in front of all of us? You want people thinking the Johnsons mistreat you?"

"Emily, you can't do this." Grace stepped forward, fingers closing around Emily's wrist. Her eyes were still wet. "Is it really just because we didn't bring you to the beach? You didn't have to go find some man over it."

That sentence landed differently than the rest.

Emily closed her eyes for a beat, wrestled the fury back down behind something colder, and turned to face her. "What makes you so certain there's anything going on? You sound awfully familiar with that kind of arrangement. Experience talking?"

"Emily. Enough." Samuel's voice hit like a slap.

"No — enough from all of you." Emily didn't flinch. "Especially you, Grace. Soft and sweet to my face, then turning every word into something filthy the second my back is turned. And the three of you — you just believe whatever she says without a single thought. Not one."

Grace began to shake. She looked, for a moment, like she might actually fall.

David was at her side instantly, his hand at her elbow, his entire expression a wall of protective anger. "Grace — hey. You okay?"

"It's my fault." Grace shook her head, shrinking into herself. "I shouldn't have said anything. Emily, I was genuinely trying to—"

"Save it." Emily's voice was quiet and final. "I hired people to move a few bags. You turned that into something disgusting. Is there anything in your head besides that kind of thinking?"

She turned back to the movers, crutches clicking against the floor, and led them upstairs.

The movers followed in silence, their faces carefully blank — though their thoughts weren't. They were here to do a job. That was it. Whatever was wrong with this family was not their problem.

"Stop right there." Mark's footsteps hit the floor fast and hard behind her. His hand shot out and closed around Emily's arm.

His grip was brutal. The force of it knocked her off balance, and the pain shot through her healing leg like something electric and white.

Emily's face tightened. Without thinking, she wrenched free and swung the crutch up between them. "Let go of me."

The pain made the motion harder than she'd intended.

Mark jerked back, his hand dropping. He stared at her, something almost stunned crossing his face. "You wouldn't dare lay a hand on me?"

"So what if I do?" Emily's gaze was steady and cold. "All those years and you haven't gotten any wiser. You've got height but no brains at all."

Mark stood there, speechless.

Emily didn't look back. She led the movers upstairs and finished packing.

As they made their way through, one of the movers accidentally caught the edge of a shelf near the coffee table. A crystal figurine tipped, hit the floor, and shattered.

"Ms. Johnson, I'm sorry — how much was that? I'll cover it."

"It's fine. Don't worry about it." Emily nudged a shard aside with the tip of her crutch. "It wasn't worth anything."

Mark had followed them up just far enough to see it.

He stood at the edge of the landing and watched her — the way she stepped over the broken pieces without a backward glance, without hesitation, without any of the feeling a person was supposed to have leaving a place that had been their home.

Something hollow opened up in his chest.

Had they actually gotten it wrong?