A Missing Key 218 Missed Calls One Family Secret novel Chapter 17

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The train rattled west for two straight days.

The coach car smelled like old coffee and someone’s leftover Subway.

The guy across from me snored like a freight train.

But I slept like a baby.

No performance to put on.

No tension in my shoulders from reading the room.

No constant weight of feeling like I didn’t belong.

I was just another broke college kid heading to school.

After two days and a night, we pulled into the station.

The sky out here was unreal-wide open blue stretching forever.

The air was dry and clean, smelling like sage and sunshine.

The town wasn’t anything like the city I’d left behind.

Wider streets, people taking their time. A little worn down, a little rough.

I felt at home instantly.

Using the address I’d saved on my phone, I found the apartment I’d rented online.

An older building near campus. Studio layout-bedroom, tiny kitchenette. Secondhand furniture, but everything was clean. Natural light everywhere.

I dropped my bag and cracked open the window.

Down below, a couple of old guys were playing checkers on a folding table. Kids were riding bikes in circles, yelling at each

other.

This This is what real life looks like.

Once I unpacked, I headed to campus to register and knock out all the admin stuff.

I told my advisor upfront I wasn’t living in the dorms.

She pushed back a little, but I didn’t budge. After some paperwork, she signed off on it.

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A Missing Key, 218 Missed Calls, One Family Secret

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Chapter 7

And that was that. College started.

Geology turned out to be brutal-way more demanding than I expected. Heavy course load, constant field trips.

I didn’t mind. I was obsessed.

Every week, I’d load up my field pack and head out with the professor and a handful of other students-hiking ridge lines, identifying rock samples, mapping fault lines.

My skin got darker. My hands got calloused. I was always tired.

But I felt good.

Out here, nobody knew I was Robert Mitchell’s other daughter. No judgment, no comparisons.

I was just Nina.

A quiet, focused student who worked hard and kept to herself.

I stayed friendly with my classmates-grabbed lunch together, studied in groups sometimes. But I didn’t get pulled into anyone’s personal mess.

In my downtime, I picked up a tutoring gig-helping a seventh grader with algebra twice a week.

The money wasn’t much, but it covered rent and groceries.

My advisor raised an eyebrow. “You’re staying through the holidays?”

“Flight’s expensive,” I said. “Plus I want to get ahead on my coursework. Maybe tutor a few extra sessions.”

She got it. Even helped me apply for the winter housing stipend.

Christmas Eve, I heated up a Trader Joe’s lasagna and cracked open a beer.

Down the hall, I could hear someone’s holiday party getting loud.

Music, laughter, the whole deal.

In here, it was just me and Love Actually playing on my laptop with the sound off.

I checked Instagram out of habit.

Claire had posted this picture-perfect family shot-her, Mom, and Dad in matching sweaters in front of their twelve-foot tree, holding crystal champagne flutes.

I didn’t feel anything looking at it.

Honestly? Sitting here alone with my shitty microwave dinner felt more real than being the invisible fourth wheel at their holiday photo op.

My phone lit up.

Texts from both Mom and Claire. “Merry Christmas!” with Venmo notifications attached.

I typed back, “Thanks. You too.”

Left the money where it was.

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A Missing Key, 218 Missed Calls, One Family Secret

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