Chapter 1

It took me twenty years to erase myself from the Morrow family.

I saw them again,

at the lab's chip project launch reception.

My mother Vivienne was still an authority in infectious disease.

My father Harrison had gone from group CEO to retired board chairman.

My brother Baker had taken over the family business.

The one they'd always cradled in their palms, was the girl they'd brought into our home.

She'd married the Grayson heir she'd grown up with, gliding from trust-fund darling to old-money wife.

And me? I'd been buried in this godforsaken desert for twenty years.

A black card slid across the table. Baker.

"You chose this road. Walk it."

"Is helping Sadie really that hard?"

I pushed the card back. My throat itched. I coughed twice.

Baker frowned. "Are you sick?"

"Been throwing this tantrum for years. Haven't you had enough?"

I finally swallowed the knot in my throat, and gestured to the security guard by the door.

"Security. Remove this man. I don't know him."

***

"Take the card. Don't embarrass yourself in a place like this."

Baker slapped a black card onto the high-top table in front of me.

His tone was the same one you'd use to toss spare change at a beggar.

This was the Sonoran Desert Federal Lab chip project launch reception.

I'd been here twenty years.

I looked at the man in the tailored suit, cufflinks polished bright enough to use as mirrors—the head of the Morrow family, Baker—and felt absolutely nothing. I almost wanted to laugh.

"Security. These people aren't lab personnel. Escort them out."

I didn't touch the card. I nodded toward the guards at the entrance.

Baker's face darkened. A cold laugh escaped him.

"Sadie Morrow. What exactly do you think you are now?"

"If my mother Vivienne hadn't pulled strings to push your resume here, you wouldn't have even found the front door."

"You really think you earned any of this on your own?"

I looked at him. And at Dr. Vivienne Morrow standing behind him. And at Ella, wrapped in a cashmere shawl, looking like she was about to faint.

They thought this was charity. All I felt was disgust.

Twenty years ago, when I first joined the lab, my supervising mentor—because the Morrow family had made a few calls—published my preliminary results under his own name. Pushed me out of the core research team.

All those pre-dawn hours sobbing in front of the equipment, unable to breathe. I owe every single one to my family.

"Sadie. Apologize to Baker."

Vivienne stepped forward. Behind her gold-rimmed glasses, her expression was as detached as if she were presenting at a conference.

"Agree to come back and do the bone marrow match for Ella, and Baker will transfer you to Boston immediately."

"The medical resources and labs there—you can walk into any one you want."

"Transfer me back?" I couldn't hold back the laugh. "Baker. Do I need to remind you?"

"In twenty years, I submitted fifty transfer requests. Every single one was killed in the system by the Morrow family."

"You're standing here negotiating with me now. Don't you think it's a little late?"

Vivienne's brow furrowed. Her tone carried the certainty of someone stating an unassailable theorem.

"That was tempering. How can young people accomplish anything without some hardship? We were doing it for your own good."

"Sadie, I'm sorry. It's my body—my illness—that's dragged you into this."

Ella's eyes welled up. Her tears fell right on cue.

She sagged against Baker's shoulder, gasping like she might collapse any second.

Baker wrapped a protective arm around her. When he turned back to me, his gaze was all business.

"The Morrow Group sponsored three million in research funding for this lab this year."

"I make one phone call, and that money is gone by tomorrow."

"When that happens, how long do you think your project team can survive out here in this desert?"

I looked at his arrogant face and felt nothing but absurdity.

"Go ahead. Try."

My voice was flat. I didn't break eye contact.

Baker laughed, furious. Right in front of me, he made the call. His tone was clipped, efficient, like issuing a business directive.

"The Morrow Group's entire future funding commitment to the Sonoran Lab. Terminate it. Not a cent remains."

He hung up. Then he looked down at me.

"Sadie. This is just the beginning."

"I'd love to see how many days you can last in a place that doesn't even have a decent restaurant—without the Morrow family's money."