"This is all your fault."

"Shut up."

"No. You've ruined my entire life."

"Now you're just being dramatic."

"Dramatic? Are you serious? I'm reacting the way any sane person would when their life has been ruined!"

"Are you seriously going to blame me for—"

"Girls!" my father's voice barks from where he sits across from us in the limo, fire burning in his gaze. "Cut that out. Now."

Kendall, my sister, rolls her dark blue eyes, settling her hate-filled glare on me. "She started it."

"Me?" I blink, wondering if she's serious. "How did I start it? You're the one who—"

"Jade!" My mother whips her head around, her weary emerald gaze fixating on me. The look on her face renders me speechless, her angered expression causing a shiver to run down my spine. I know that look. It's my mother's infamous be-quiet-or-else look. "Now isn't the time for you to be starting arguments with your sister. Not after what you've done."

I bite my lip to hold back a sarcastic retort, nails digging roughly into my palms. Kendall shoots me a smirk, evidently satisfied with the fact that our parents are clearly on her side. I'm the oldest sister, though this is hardly obvious considering the way Kendall treats me. She and I have never gotten along, but things have only worsened since my incident. Now my sister doesn't merely dislike me, she hates me. And she likes to remind me of this every chance she gets.

"I said I was sorry," I mumble under my breath, the words hardly audible. My voice cracks, and I curse myself for it. I don't want my family to know how much their resentment toward me is starting to hurt. We've never been close, but now they're purposefully isolating me, and this bothers me more than I'd like to admit.

Kendall shifts in her seat next to me, tucking a strand of perfectly straight blond hair behind her ear with a sniff. My father casts his blue eyes downward onto his silver Rolex, intentionally refusing to meet my gaze. Mother is the only one who holds my gaze, her eyes the same shade of green as my own.

"Sometimes," Mother mumbles coolly, "sorry isn't enough."

"I made a mistake," I argue, blinking back the heated tears beginning to well in my eyes. "Doesn't everybody—"

"You are not everybody," Mother cuts in, her glare searing through my skin and straight into my heart. "You're a Montgomery. And Montgomery's can't afford to make mistakes."

"I'm still a person," I try, knowing it's no use to fight with Mom at this point. Once she has her mind made up, there is no changing it. And now she has her mind made up that she hates me.

"I just don't see why you had to steal in the first place." Mom sounds distraught as she says the words, shaking her head in confusion. "You know we have money, Jade. If you wanted the diamonds that badly, you could have just asked for them."

I hang my head low in shame, holding my tongue. I can't tell my mom that I didn't steal the diamonds from the upscale jewelry store back home in California because I simply wanted them. In my mind, I was making a point. (It seemed like a smarter decision when I was actually doing it—now it just sounds stupid, but still.) I wanted to prove that this whole life my family leads is stupid. All they care about is prestige and fame and wealth, and I wanted to prove how shallow that kind of life is. By stealing the diamonds, I was trying to show how easy it is to lose something worth so much—how meaningless this whole life is.

Instead, I ended up getting caught and therefore arrested. Along with this, I tarnished the reputation my parents have worked to make for our family name. And now—because I stole those stupid diamonds—my entire life is being uprooted from sunny and free California to stuffy and cold (I mostly mean the people, but the weather, too) New York.

Considering my father is Drew Montgomery, owner of Calypso Hotels, a worldwide chain that has made my father millions, I hadn't been surprised when the news of my arrest made headlines. Because of my father's success and wealth within the business industry, he's created quite a name for himself, and therefore a name for all of us Montgomery's.

I've never quite fit into my family's mold of who they think I should be. There always seems to be something for them to pick apart about me: I don't dress the right way, I don't have the appropriate friends, I don't say the correct thing at the needed time. And, honestly? I couldn't care less. I'd much rather be a disgrace to my family than live unhappily just to please them. Yet this time I've taken things too far, and even I'm aware of this. Just days ago, my family had everything going for them. Dad was riding out the high of his recent Forbes article, having just started construction on a new resort in New York City, and he'd just signed a deal with a rival company that shut them down altogether.

Then I started making headlines. Headlines alerting the world about my arrest for stealing diamonds.

So, naturally, my family now hates me.

"I'm sorry," I croak, unsure of what else to say. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter anymore, Jade," my father says in a measured tone. "We've already bought the place in New York. I'm building up here anyway, so it'll be nice to be close to the work-site. Less traveling. The new house is bigger than the last, and we'll be able to bury the hatchet here. Just don't do it again. You won't do it again." I can tell by the shadow crossing over my father's features that nothing is really over. He just don't want to talk about my mistake with me anymore.

"She will do it again," Kendall mutters with a snort. "Only, next time it will be worse."

"Kendall!" my father snaps in irritation. His dark blue eyes glower as they land on my sister, which elicits the sliver of a smile from me. "I said we're done talking about this, did I not?"

Kendall doesn't respond. Instead, she purses her lips and lets out a huff of breath, turning back to face the window and accidentally-on-purpose elbowing me in the side. I roll my eyes, rubbing the area she elbowed and sliding further down the seat away from her.

The rest of the car ride plays out in silence. I drift off, the sound of a gate clanking open the means of my awakening. Blinking out of sleep, I slowly rise in my seat and curiously glance out of the window as our limo begins to wind down a narrow path, watching as house after house passes my sight, each larger than the last.

The limo slows to a stop in front of a brick house I'm assuming is my new home. I study the scenery, from the long driveway to the dark shutters on the shiny windows, frowning as I do so. Stepping out of the limo, I stare up at the mansion before me. As I roll my eyes upward, I notice the sky is gray with dark clouds that seem to threaten rain. I sigh, missing California already. The sound of another vehicle pulling into the driveway provokes me to turn around, and I find my gaze settling on the moving van.

Next to me, Mom beams up at our new house as if she's never seen anything more pleasing. With a tight smile in my direction, Mom suggests, "Why don't we start unpacking?"

»»————- ————-««

I remove boxes from the moving van and up to my room for what feels like hours. It definitely takes a while, but my family and I somehow manage to get all of our belongings out of the van and into our new home just as sunset hits. However, unloading boxes was the easy part. It's unpacking all of those boxes and finding a place for each belonging that's difficult.

I'm upstairs and trying to unpack my things when Kendall storms into my room. Her hair is slightly disheveled from the running around she's been doing all afternoon, and there's the tiniest of wrinkles in her button-up shirt. It's the messiest I've ever seen my sister, and I find her appearance almost surprising considering it's Kendall.

"This sucks," she spits, crossing her arms over her chest as she glares at me from the doorway of my new room. "And that's all thanks to you."

I'd never admit aloud that I agree with my sister, as this whole moving situation honestly does suck. However, to say so would mean I insult myself, which I'm not quite desperate enough to resort to.

"I don't know," I lie, shrugging. "It's kind of nice. I mean, New York is cool. Plus, the house is pretty big, so . . ."

"Screw the damn house!" Kendall cries, stomping her foot like a child throwing a tantrum. "My entire life was in California, Jade! My friends, my school, my home! And all of that is gone, and it's all your fault! You're seriously the most self-absorbed person I've ever met. You just had to get arrested, didn't you? Knowing you, you probably thought winding up behind bars was so cool. But you've ruined our lives. I mean, have you read the recent Us article about our family? Our reputation is trashed, all because of—"

"Would you chill out, Kendall?" I cut in, unable to take another of my sister's accusations. "I know, okay? I know! I had a life back in California too, whether you want to admit that or not. I know that I messed up, and I already feel bad enough about it. Why do you have to make me feel worse?"

"Oh," Kendall snorts, marching up to me with her hands on her hips. I feel as if I shrink in size, wondering how our relationship ever got to this point. Kendall is my sister. I shouldn't fear her. I shouldn't hate her, either. Yet I can't help feeling a mix of both emotions in this moment. "You feel bad, Jade?" she continues, glaring at me through narrowed eyes. "Multiply your pain by about a million and maybe then you'll understand how I feel." With that and one last seething glance, Kendall whirls on her heels and marches out of my room, making a point of slamming her bedroom door behind her once she walks across the hall.

I release a pent-up breath, loose strands of dark hair flying away from my face. Squeezing my eyes closed, I notice that they sting with oncoming tears. I can't stop myself from thinking about what I've done. I have no doubt that the people around here have heard about my family, or—more specifically—me and my incident. I've messed up, and I've messed up big time.

I force myself to open my eyes and blink back the tears threatening to fall, holding myself together as I risk a glance around my new room. Just one more year, I assure myself in an attempt not to break down. One more year of high school to get through, and then it's off to college. No worrying about your family there. You can be yourself and not worry about the consequences.

Besides, it's not like things can get much worse from here.

Only, I have the sinking feeling that not only can things get worse, but that they will.