Sofia woke to the soft knock on her bedroom door.
"Sophie, wake up or you're going to be late for school," came Harper's voice—sweet and gentle, too sweet for this early in the morning.
Sofia groaned and rolled over, burying her face in her pillow. "Why does she have to ruin my day before it even starts?" she muttered to herself. "She's only pretending to be nice to stay on Dad's good side."
Dragging herself out of bed, Sofia scowled at the closed door. She'd never liked Harper's presence in her life. Even the sound of her voice made her skin crawl.
It had been two years since her parents divorced. Sofia still remembered the late-night arguments, the cold silences, and the final day when her mom packed up the car and drove away. No real explanations—just vague reassurances that "sometimes things don't work out." Sofia had chosen to stay with her dad. She'd always been a daddy's girl. It felt right at the time.
But now, she wasn't so sure.
Jacob had met Harper at a café just over a year ago. They'd been dating ever since, and last week—on their one-year anniversary—Harper moved in at his request. It felt too fast. Too sudden. Like Sofia had blinked and someone else was already rearranging the furniture and lighting lavender candles in every room.
Weekends were spent with her mom, Emily, who lived an hour away. Emily never said anything openly cruel about Harper, but the resentment was obvious. Every time Sofia came back from her dad's, her mom would ask pointed questions—"Does Harper try to act like your mother?" or "Did she say anything weird to you this time?" It was subtle, but sharp. A poison in small doses.
Harper, for her part, tried. She smiled, she complimented Sofia's outfits, she cooked Sofia's favorite meals—but it all felt forced, like an audition for a role no one asked her to play.
Sofia didn't trust her. And deep down, she blamed her for the divorce, whether that was fair or not.
After a rushed shower and a half-hearted attempt at brushing her hair, Sofia came downstairs to find her dad sitting on the couch with his morning coffee and a worn paperback in his hands.
"Dad, are you not ready yet? I'm going to be late."
Jacob looked up, his eyes a little tired. "Harper's taking you to school today, sweetie. I'm not feeling great this morning, so I'm taking the day off."
Sofia frowned. "School's ten minutes away. Can't you just drop me off and come back? Harper's work is in the opposite direction, and I don't want to bother her."
"That won't be a problem at all," Harper said, walking in from the hallway, already dressed and cheerful. "I'm happy to take you. I told my manager I'd be a little late today—I can pick up Jacob's medicine while I'm out too."
Sofia rolled her eyes but forced a smile. "Okay."
Harper beamed, as if she hadn't noticed the sarcasm. "Why don't you have some breakfast while I get ready? I made your favorite—pancakes!"
Sofia blinked. Pancakes. Her mother used to make them on Sunday mornings, always too crispy around the edges, always served with strawberries and whipped cream. Sofia doubted Harper knew that detail, but somehow, it still felt like an invasion.
"Thanks," she said quietly, brushing past her into the kitchen.
Jacob watched them with an unreadable expression. "It's nice to see you two getting along," he said, voice hopeful.
Harper turned to him with one of her dazzling smiles, the kind that made Sofia's stomach twist. "We're getting there," she said before disappearing into the downstairs bedroom to finish getting ready.
Sofia stood at the kitchen counter, staring at the stack of pancakes on her plate. They looked perfect. Too perfect.
She picked up her fork, but she didn't feel like eating.