All sixteen-year-old Megan Atwell wants to do is be a normal teenager. But when her mother gets sick and her deadbeat father is nowhere to be found, Megan has to take care of her family by dropping out of school to get a job. When Megan struggles to afford her mother's medication, she decides to steal it—only to get caught and have her arrest go viral.
As she sits in a jail cell, she's surprised to learn all charges have been dropped. Her mysterious savior? 95-year-old Evelyn Quincy—sole heir to the multi-billion-dollar Quincy Industries who wants her to enter a competition to win her fortune when she dies.
But Megan isn't the only teenager invited and must put up with puzzles, tests, and tricks. If Megan wants to save her family, she’ll have no choice but to compete—and she has a billion reasons to win.
14+ due to adult situations
Excerpt:
With my mother staring at me, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the truth. I didn’t like lying—especially to my own mother—but I didn’t want to see the hurt expression on her face when she learned I couldn’t afford all the pills.
I stared down, playing with my hands. “Oh, the pharmacy must’ve screwed up. I told them to fill it.”
“No worries, dear,” Mom said, placing a hand on my arm. “You can always go back and get more.”
“Right,” I muttered.
She didn’t seem to notice my anxiety as she picked at her cheeseburger. “Did you eat already?”
“Uh, yeah,” I lied. “Brought a sandwich and ate it on my break.”
“Good. How’s school going this year? I hope your restaurant job isn’t getting in the way.”
I braced myself for another lie. “Everything’s fine, Mom. My boss understands I have school.”
“That’s good.” She coughed into her arm again. “Oh, by the way—more bills came. I left them on the kitchen counter.”
More bills? I wasn’t even sure I could afford food this week, let alone utilities.
“Did your disability check come at least?” I asked, rising to my feet.
My mother nodded. “Yes, but it wasn’t a lot—especially with food prices going up.”
As I turned to the door to inspect the bills, Mom called out to me. “Meg? I’m…I’m sorry.”
I turned back, frowning. “About what?”
She sighed, trying to sit up. It clearly took all her effort to move. “For putting you and Bri in this position. For forcing you to take care of the family. For choosing such a deadbeat loser for a partner. And of course … for being sick.”
I walked toward her, reaching for her hand. “Mom, you have nothing to be sorry about. None of this is your fault, you hear me?”
She nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “Yes, yes—I know. It’s just … hard. Especially when I see how much you’re suffering.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m keeping this family alive, aren’t I?” I said with a smile. “Just focus on getting better and I’ll handle the rest. It’ll all work out—you’ll see.”
I think I was trying to convince myself as much as Mom. Her lips curved into a small smile, but I could tell she was still worried. I was, too. I patted her hand, and went to the kitchen. Briana had finished her McDonald’s—gobbling it all down—and was playing with some Barbies on the living room floor.
As she made the dolls talk to each other, I looked through the bills on the counter. Rent was due along with the electricity and cable. We needed those—we couldn’t afford to lose them. I knew my next paycheck would help, but what about Mom’s pills? They were still my number one concern.
In desperation, I reached for the cell phone on the kitchen counter and scrolled through the contacts. My father’s name—Duncan Mitchell—was still in there, though Mom hadn’t spoken to him in years. I wasn’t even sure he knew she had cancer.
Although I didn’t want to talk to him, I had no one else. I dialed his number. It rang and rang.
“Come on, come on,” I muttered. “Pick up the phone for once…”
A second later, it went to voicemail. His slimy voice echoed through. “If you have my digits, you know who you’re calling. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon.”
When the voicemail beeped, I just hung up. I thought about leaving a message, but really, who was I kidding? My father wasn’t going to come to my rescue. He never had before, and it was foolish to think he’d start being an adult now. No, this was a problem I’d have to work out for myself.
I felt like crying, overwhelmed by it all. But Briana was a few feet away and I didn’t want Mom to hear me. I swallowed the lump in my throat, staring hard at the bills. I had only one option.
I had to steal Mom’s medication from the pharmacy.
It was a terrible thought, and I knew stealing was wrong. But I had no one else to turn to, no money hidden away that I could dip into. I wasn’t like thieves who stole for fun—this was to save my mother’s life. I owed her that much.
