The last time I saw my stepbrothers, I was seventeen, awkward, and had a mouth full of braces. Now I was nineteen, in college, and still awkward—but in a different, “I-don’t-know-what-to-do-with-my-body” kind of way.

And now… I was being babysat by them.

Ridiculous.

Mom’s heels clicked across the polished marble of the grand foyer as she rushed to hug me one last time before leaving. “Be good, sweetheart. The boys know the rules. No parties. No sneaking out. You’re still ...