Monday morning arrived with absolutely no concern for Annie Samson’s feelings. At six-thirty, her alarm began screaming from the bedside table. Annie reached out from beneath her blanket, slapped the phone once, and missed. The alarm continued. She slapped it again. This time, she knocked it off the table. The phone hit the floor with a loud crack, but the alarm did not stop. Annie opened one eye. “Traitor.” She dragged herself out of bed, her hair sticking in every direction, and crouched beside the table to retrieve the phone. When she finally silenced it, the room fell quiet again. For three glorious seconds. Then someone knocked on her door. “Annie?” Eleanor’s gentle voice came from outside. “Are you awake?” “No.” There was a brief pause. “Then who answered me?” “A ghost.” Eleanor laughed softly. “Breakfast will be ready in thirty minutes.” “Tell breakfast I’ll see it next year.” “You have university.” Annie froze. She slowly turned toward the clock. Six forty-three. Her eyes widened. “Oh, hell.” She rushed into the bathroom, nearly tripped over the slippers beside her bed, and grabbed the first outfit she could find. Ten minutes later, she emerged wearing dark jeans, a cream-colored blouse, and a pair of sneakers. Her purple hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, leaving a few strands framing her face. She inspected herself in the mirror. “Acceptable,” she decided. “Not impressive, but survivable.” When she entered the dining room, everyone was already seated. William lowered his newspaper. Eleanor looked relieved. Emily smiled warmly, while Linda continued scrolling through something on her tablet. Nicholas, who had apparently been waiting for entertainment, looked up and grinned. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Annie pulled out a chair. “If you call me that again, I’ll make sure you never wake up.” Nicholas laughed. “You’re in a wonderful mood.” “I was dragged out of bed before the sun had finished thinking.” “You woke up at six forty-three.” “That’s practically midnight.” Linda glanced at her. “Some people have already completed half their workday by that time.” Annie reached for a piece of toast. “Some people also enjoy suffering. I don’t judge.” Emily covered a smile with her teacup. William sighed, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “You need to adjust to the household schedule.” “I was adjusting perfectly well before you people brought me here.” Eleanor quietly pushed a plate of eggs toward her. “Eat first. Argue afterward.” Annie looked at her, then at the food. “Mother, you understand me.” The word slipped out naturally. The entire table went still. Annie’s fingers paused around the toast. Eleanor’s eyes softened, but she didn’t make a fuss. She simply smiled and nodded. “Then eat, darling.” Annie lowered her gaze and took a bite, pretending not to notice the warmth spreading through her chest. Across the table, Linda had stopped scrolling. She looked at Eleanor, then at Annie, her expression unreadable. Nicholas, sensing the sudden shift, deliberately reached for the jam. “So,” he said brightly, “how was your visit to the Starks residence?” Annie swallowed. “Your cousin’s family is strange.” “Strange how?” “They like Brian.” Nicholas burst out laughing. Emily leaned forward. “You didn’t like the family?” “I liked them. That’s the problem.” Annie frowned. “They were too welcoming. I was prepared to be uncomfortable, but they ruined my plans.” “Margaret already asked when you’re visiting again,” Eleanor said. Annie’s hand stopped halfway to her mouth. “She did?” “She said the house felt livelier with you there,” Emily replied. Annie looked down at her breakfast. “That woman is dangerously charming.” “And Brian?” Nicholas asked. Annie pointed her fork at him. “Don’t start.” “Did he behave?” “He breathed. Occasionally spoke. Unfortunately, both activities were successful.” Nicholas grinned. “So you’re interested.” Annie threw a piece of toast at him. He ducked, laughing as it landed against the wall behind him. William closed his eyes. “Annie.” “What? He moved.” “Please don’t throw food in the dining room.” “Tell Nicholas to stop asking stupid questions.” Nicholas picked up the toast from the table and examined it. “You know, most women would be flattered if a man like Brian showed interest in them.” “Most women have terrible taste.” Linda finally looked up from her tablet. “And what exactly is your taste?” Annie turned toward her. The question sounded casual, but the sharpness beneath it was impossible to miss. Annie placed her fork down. “Someone who doesn’t mistake money for a personality.” Linda’s eyes narrowed slightly. Emily immediately spoke. “Annie has a lecture today, doesn’t she?” “Yes,” Annie answered, without breaking eye contact with Linda. “And unlike certain people, I intend to spend my morning doing something useful.” She stood, grabbed her bag, and kissed Eleanor’s cheek before leaving. At the entrance, Margaret Lewis handed her a packed lunch. Annie stared at it. “What is this?” “Food.” “I can see that.” “Then why are you asking?” Annie studied the older woman with suspicion. “You’re becoming too comfortable.” Margaret straightened the collar of Annie’s blouse. “Someone has to make sure you eat. You’re too thin.” “I’m naturally elegant.” “You’re naturally troublesome.” Annie smiled. “I like you.” “I know.” Outside, the Samson driver waited beside the car. Annie climbed into the back seat and looked through the window at the enormous residence. For the first time since returning, she felt something unfamiliar. She was leaving, but she knew she would come back. The realization made her uncomfortable. She had spent eighteen years belonging to one small home, one familiar road, one woman who had raised her. Now, she had a family mansion, a mother who looked at her as though she were something precious, and a father who seemed determined to make up for lost time. It was too much. Too sudden. Annie turned her face toward the window. “I’m not getting sentimental,” she muttered. The driver glanced at her through the mirror. “Miss?” “Nothing. Drive.” The university gates were crowded when Annie arrived. Students moved between buildings with coffee cups, backpacks, and unfinished conversations. A group of girls stood near the entrance, laughing over something on a phone. Two boys hurried past, arguing about an assignment. The familiar noise settled around Annie like an old jacket. Here, she wasn’t the missing daughter of a wealthy family. She was simply Annie. And she preferred it that way. “Annie!” She turned just as Jane rushed toward her, nearly colliding with another student. Jane Park was small, energetic, and incapable of keeping a secret for longer than ten minutes. Her dark hair was tied into two uneven braids, and she carried three textbooks against her chest as though preparing for battle. “You disappeared,” Jane accused. “I went home.” “You have been gone for days.” “Technically, I went home for the first time in eighteen years.” Jane blinked. Annie smiled. “Long story.” Jane narrowed her eyes. “You’re wearing expensive shoes.” Annie looked down. “They’re shoes.” “They’re expensive shoes.” “Perhaps they’re pretending.” Jane grabbed her arm. “You’re hiding something.” “I’m hiding the fact that I’m about to be late.” “You have seven minutes.” “Then stop interrogating me.” They hurried toward the medical building, Jane firing questions the entire way. “Did you really move into a mansion?” “Yes.” “Do you have servants?” “Yes.” “Do you have your own bathroom?” “Jane, everyone deserves a bathroom.” “Did you meet your biological sisters?” “Yes.” “Are they beautiful?” “Annoyingly.” “Are you rich now?” Annie stopped walking. Jane almost walked into her. Annie leaned closer and whispered, “If you ask me whether I’m going to buy you lunch, I’ll deny knowing you.” Jane’s eyes widened. “You’re rich enough to buy lunch?” Annie groaned. “I knew it.” Jane burst into laughter. Their professor arrived before the conversation could continue, and the two slipped into their seats just as the lecture began. Professor Miller placed his notes on the desk and looked around the room. “Today, we’ll discuss the physiological mechanisms involved in the regulation of blood pressure. Who can explain the role of the baroreceptor reflex?” Several students lowered their heads. Annie, who had been writing the date at the top of her notebook, raised her hand. Professor Miller nodded toward her. “Miss Samson?” She answered clearly, explaining the role of baroreceptors in detecting changes in arterial pressure and how the autonomic nervous system responded to maintain homeostasis. Professor Miller listened, then nodded. “Correct. And what happens when blood pressure suddenly decreases?” Annie continued without hesitation. By the time she finished, Jane was staring at her with open betrayal. “You didn’t even study,” Jane whispered. “I studied last week.” “Last week?” “Knowledge doesn’t expire like milk.” Jane shook her head. “You’re terrifying.” “I’ve been told.” At the end of the lecture, a student named Ethan Cole approached their desk. He was tall, friendly, and usually surrounded by classmates because he had a talent for explaining difficult topics without making people feel stupid. “Annie,” he said, smiling. “Professor Miller mentioned your answer. Could you send me your notes later?” Annie closed her notebook. “What do I get?” Ethan hesitated. “What?” “Payment.” Jane immediately covered her mouth, already anticipating trouble. Annie leaned back in her chair. “I don’t provide academic services for free.” “I can buy you coffee.” “Too ordinary.” “Lunch?” “Better.” Ethan laughed. “Fine. Lunch.” “Add dessert.” “You negotiate like a criminal.” “I negotiate like a student with standards.” “Deal.” Jane waited until Ethan left before turning to Annie. “You flirt with everyone.” Annie looked offended. “I asked for dessert.” “That’s worse.” Annie packed her books, smiling faintly. For a few hours, she forgot about the mansion, the Samsons, and the Starks. Then her phone vibrated. She glanced at the screen. Brian Starks. Annie stared at the name as though it had personally offended her. Jane leaned over. “Who is that?” “An inconvenience.” “An inconvenience with a name?” Annie opened the message. Brian: Did you get to university safely? She frowned. Why was he asking? He wasn’t her father. He wasn’t her brother. He wasn’t even her boyfriend. She typed a reply. Annie: No. I was kidnapped by a group of extremely attractive criminals. They’re holding me hostage in the library. The response came almost immediately. Brian: Should I send someone? Annie’s lips twitched. Annie: No. I’m negotiating my release. Brian: What do they want? Annie: Lunch. Dessert. Possibly your company’s shares. A moment passed. Brian: You should ask for more. Annie blinked. Then she laughed. Jane stared at her. “What did he say?” “Nothing important.” Brian: Have you eaten? Annie’s smile faded slightly. She glanced at the packed lunch inside her bag. Annie: You sound like your mother. Brian: My mother is usually right. Annie: That must be difficult for you. Brian: It is. I survive. Annie shook her head, smiling despite herself. Then another message appeared. Brian: I have a meeting near your university this afternoon. If you’re finished by four, I can take you home. Annie stared at the screen. He had a meeting near her university. That was reasonable. He wasn’t appearing out of nowhere. He had business. A schedule. A life that didn’t revolve around her. Still, the offer made her hesitate. Annie: Are you asking because you want to, or because your mother instructed you to? This time, his reply took longer. Brian: Because I want to. Annie’s fingers rested above the keyboard. For once, she didn’t have a clever response ready. Jane peered at her. “Why do you look like someone just told you the exam was cancelled?” Annie locked her phone and slipped it into her bag. “Because someone said something irritating.” “What?” “He was honest.” Jane stared at her. Annie stood and swung her bag over her shoulder. “Come on. I’m hungry.” “Are you buying lunch?” Annie walked ahead. “You’re paying.” “Why?” “Because you asked too many questions.” And for the rest of the afternoon, Annie tried very hard not to think about the fact that Brian Starks had said he wanted to see her.

Monday Had a Bad Attitude