Chapter 1
I GLARE AT MY nemesis.

“Tamago,” I declare as I place a small rectangular pan onto the stove, “I will master you!”

This is the last dish I need to finish before our afternoon meal. Dad and I already spent all morning making traditional foods for Oshogatsu, New Year’s Day, like inarizushi. We stuffed balls of sushi rice into fried tofu pockets. They look pretty good. Dad and I didn’t attempt to make sushi, though. Mom used to make the most beautiful nigiri and futomaki.

But I want to make the Japanese omelet on my own. I can easily follow Mom’s recipe, but rolling the tamago takes practice. Props to Dad, who ate my ugly, tattered, uneven attempts for the last three days without complaint. I guess they tasted good, at least.

“Here we go,” I mutter.

I use my cooking chopsticks to rub a small square of paper towel soaked in vegetable oil onto the pan’s surface. I take a deep breath for courage and slowly pour enough of the seasoned scrambled eggs to thinly coat the bottom of the pan. I wait a beat and then use my chopsticks to carefully roll the cooking liquid, and leave it on one side of the pan. So far, so good. I pour another thin layer of eggs and roll the already cooked egg over the cooking layer. I do this several more times back and forth until the omelet is a thick roll. Not once did I tear any of the layers.

“Yatta!” I shout.

Dad pokes his head into the kitchen. “You did it?” he asks with a smile.

I slide the tamago onto a platter. “I’ll slice it after it cools,” I say.

“Looks just like Mom’s,” he says, standing at the counter.

It’s been two years since Mom died, and this is the first time Dad and I are doing any celebrating of any kind. But here we are. I’m home in Connecticut with Dad. He took time off work, and we had a really nice Christmas.

“I can’t wait to eat,” I say, wiping my hands on a towel.

“Are you sure you don’t want to invite Aunt Vivian?” Dad asks for the fifth time this week.

My answer remains the same. “Dad, I want it to be just the two of us.”

Aunt Vivian—Dad’s sister—is the absolute worst. After Mom died, because Dad was traveling for work, I moved in with my aunt for sixth grade. She was horrible and mean. I was so miserable that I started cutting school and failing tests. That’s why in September, Dad enrolled me at Leland Chase Academy, an elite boarding school in upstate New York better known as Last Chance Academy.

New Year’s Day is a celebration. I don’t want Aunt Vivian ruining this holiday and the good vibes between me and Dad. I don’t want to spend any time with her at all.

“Actually—” Dad says.

My phone chimes with an incoming text.

“Just a sec,” I say, stepping away into the living room, preventing Dad from probably insisting that we invite Aunt Vivian.

I check my phone and smile. It feels strange to have my phone again because we’re not allowed to have any personal electronic devices of any kind at LCA, but it feels even more strange to actually have friends to text.

Tana Rabin: Two more days!!!!!

Ryan Hsieh: Zane has been packing since yesterday.

Zane Yoshikawa: Have not.

Zane doesn’t have a home to go to. I’m happy that he’s spending the holidays with Ryan and his family. Plus, I know Ryan is relieved to have the buffer of his roommate, because Ryan isn’t close with his family.

Megumi Mizuno: I’m going to start packing tonight.

Tana Rabin: Don’t forget sunscreen.

Ryan Hsieh: And swimsuits!

Zane Yoshikawa: Not getting in the water.

Megumi Mizuno: Can’t swim?

Zane Yoshikawa: Sharks jellyfish pee trash.

Ryan Hsieh: Killjoy.

Tana Rabin: Whatever! TWO MORE DAYS!!!!

In two days Dad and I are flying to California for a weeklong vacation with my friends from my boarding school. The vacation is a prize I won during a secret treasure hunt at LCA during fall semester. The treasure hunt helped distract me from being sad and angry. And it brought me friends even though I’d been determined not to make any.

Over the course of the secret treasure hunt, my friends and I started to feel like the Mastermind (as he calls himself) had ulterior motives, and maybe he does, because that note he sent us before winter break was a little creepy. But he didn’t lie. There was a prize, and I won it. I’m especially excited because for the first time since Mom died, I’m going on vacation with my dad.

“Meg? When you’re done, can you come here, please?” Dad calls.

I tuck my phone into my pocket and join him in the dining room. My stomach growls as I gaze at the feast spread out on the table.

Dad squeezes my shoulder gently. We stand there, suspended in time, remembering the last time we celebrated Oshogatsu, when our family was three instead of two.

“I have some bad news, Megumi,” Dad says. “But also some good news.”

I turn to him with a frown.

“I’m really sorry, but I can’t go to California with you and your friends,” Dad says.

“What?” I stumble back against the table.

Dad reaches for me, but I dodge his hands and scoot around the table, using it as a barrier. But I know nothing can protect my heart from whatever excuse he has.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “You know I’m trying to wrap up all my projects so I can stop traveling and you can move home this summer.”

“Right,” I say tightly.

“An issue has come up with one of those projects, and I need to fly out the same day we were supposed to leave for California.”

“Dad!” I shout. “You promised! You’re the chaperone! It’s too late to get someone else. So not only are we not going on vacation together but now my friends can’t go either.”

“That’s the good news I have,” Dad says in a soothing tone. “You and your friends can still go. I found a replacement chaperone.”

“Who?”

“Aunt Vivian.”