“She’s gonna love it, Nia,” he said, glancing at Zoe in the rearview mirror.
“I know,” I said, though a knot tightened in my stomach. “I just hope Lena remembers what’s important. She’s living this fancy life now… so different from how we grew up.”
When the mansion came into view, Zoe pressed her nose to the window, fogging the glass. The house was stunning—pale stone walls, huge windows, and a pool that sparkled like it belonged in a magazine.
We parked among shiny luxury cars. From the driveway, I saw my niece and nephew, Tina and Jett, racing across the lawn, their nanny trailing with sunscreen and juice boxes.
