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.

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