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Lana's POV We landed in Seattle and I forced myself to get off the private jet because it felt like I left my heart in New York. As the tears welled up in my eyes, I blinked them away. My dad put our bags in his car and then we drove home. I didn't want to talk because I just wasn't in the mood. If I had to just say something, then I would've cried. Opening the door to the house for the very first time since I left, I could hear my younger siblings arguing and I took in a deep breath. As I walked inside, they hugged me. "Where is mom?" I asked. "In the kitchen," Weston called out. Apparently, he was named after my late grandfather. I went to the kitchen. My mother was preparing dinner which she had improved over the years as my father taught her. She hates to cook. "Mom," I said, bu
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