Summer Housethe Summer I Turned Pretty : Season... -

Susannah’s ghost was everywhere. She was in the way the morning light hit the breakfast nook and the specific, floral scent of the guest towels. Without her, the house was a beautiful shell, and the people inside it were rattling around like loose stones.

Conrad was a shadow. He moved through the rooms with a quiet, devastating efficiency, packing away pieces of a life he wasn't ready to let go of. He looked at Belly with eyes that promised forever but lips that remained sealed, anchored by a duty to his brother and a grief he refused to share. Every time their hands brushed in the kitchen, the air thrummed with the electricity of "almost," a tension so thick it felt like the humidity before a tropical storm. Summer HouseThe Summer I Turned Pretty : Season...

Then there was Jeremiah. Jeremiah was the sunshine that refused to dim, even when the clouds rolled in. He was the easy laugh, the steady hand on Belly’s waist, and the promise of a future that didn't hurt. But when he looked at the house—and then at Conrad—the cracks showed. He was tired of being the second choice, the backup plan for a heart that had belonged to his brother since they were children. Susannah’s ghost was everywhere