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"The flight carrying your daughter has crashed." That was when my family finally remembered I existed. For eight years, my parents gave my adopted sister everything. My room. My fiancé. Even half the Rossetti empire. When I got into Columbia, they gave me one ticket. Then the whole family secretly flew to Montana to settle her into the business they had handed her. At security training, she startled me from behind. I needed stitches. She twisted her ankle. Yet everyone carried her away and left me wounded. That day, I stopped begging. I signed an eight-year contract with New York's most feared mafia family. "No contact. No old identity. Vesper Rossetti disappears." The morning I left, no one saw me off. Hours later, my scheduled flight crashed. It was only at this moment that my parents, my fiancé, truly felt a pain and panic they had never known before. "You sure about this? You sign that paper, you vanish for the next eight years." An hour before I heard those words, I'd just gotten my acceptance from Columbia's biomedical program. Right after, my mother dropped two itineraries into the family group chat. One was a first-class ticket from New Orleans to New York. Under my name. The other was an economy seat to Bozeman, Montana. The name on it was Katerina Bellandi. My adoptive sister. Mother breathed out like she'd been holding it for years. "Vesper, Rossetti Investments booked you first class this time. Even Katerina only got economy. You can't tell us we're playing favorites anymore, right?" My fiancé, Silas Caruso, was packing Katerina's luggage. Pecan pralines, chicory coffee, her favorite spice cookies—all of it shoved into three overstuffed suitcases. He didn't even look up. Ice-cold, he added, "You're the Rossetti princess now. Stop staring at everything Katerina has like the world owes you." I kept my head down and said nothing. The night before, I'd found other papers in my father's study. A property contract for a condo in downtown Bozem
