He said nothing as I pulled the paper out like a guilty secret and shoved it across the table. My knees went weak, and I felt the hints of lightheadedness take over. God, how could I ever hope to be a runner if I didn't have enough nerve to bring it up with my brother?

The sound of the paper rasping on the table as he picked it up seemed loud. The furnace clicked on, and the draft shifted my hair as I watched his gaze travel over the paper. Slowly his expression changed as he realized what it was. His eyes hit mine, and his jaw clenched. "No."

He went to crumple the paper, and I snatched it away. "I'm going to do this."

"The I.S?" Robbie said loudly. "Are you crazy? That's what killed Dad!"

"It is not. I was there. He said so. Where were you?"

Feeling the hit, he shifted to the back of the chair, "That's not fair."

"Neither is telling me I can't do something simply because it scares you," I accused.

His brow furrowed, and I grabbed my cup of coffee, sliding it between us. "Is this why you're so hell bent on those karate classes?" he asked bitterly.

"It's not karate," I said. "And yes, it puts me ahead of everyone else. With my two-year degree, I can be a full runner in four years. Four years, Robbie!"

"I don't believe this." Robbie crossed his arms over his chest. "Mom is actually letting you do this?"

I stayed silent, ticked.

Robbie made a derisive noise from deep in his chest. "She doesn't know," he accused, and I brought my gaze up. My vision was blurring, but by God, I wasn't going to wipe my eyes.

"Rachel," he coaxed, seeing me teetering in frustration. "Did you even read the contract? They have you forever. No way out. You're not even twenty yet, and you're throwing your life away!"