“Mia, Jax—go get more firewood before it gets dark,” my dad called from where he was setting up the campfire.

I groaned. “Can’t he go alone?”

“Family bonding, remember?” My dad gave me that look that meant don’t argue.

Jax was already walking toward the tree line, not even waiting for me. I grabbed the canvas bag and followed, keeping distance between us.

We’d been on this trip for two days and I was ready to fake appendicitis to get airlifted out. My dad and his new wife, Jax’s mom—kept forcing us together like we’d magically become best friends instead of two people who couldn’t stand each other.

I hated...