Delia Ashford has spent twenty-two years in state care, foster homes, and a group home where the thermostat didn't work. Now the Ashfords have brought her home—to marble halls, a trust waiting in her name, and the perfect daughter they raised in her place. Eleanor is fragile, breathless, wrapped in a blanket in August. Henry is protective, watchful, always late. Vivian smiles like Delia is a stray. Marcus studies her like stock. They think she came for family. They think she'll be grateful. Delia came for the money. But the moment she sees Eleanor's pale throat, she starts counting exits, listening for footsteps, calculating how long it would take. The Ashfords wanted their real daughter back. They've brought home something they can't control—and one of them may not survive dinner.