"I want things."
"Name one thing you've wanted just for you in the last year. Something that wasn't for me or for our future or for some practical reason."
Isaiah opened his mouth, then closed it.
"Exactly." Iris poked his arm triumphantly. "This is the first time I've seen you actually want something just because you want it. It's weird, but also kind of nice."
"It doesn't matter what I want," Isaiah said quietly. "The reality is, I work for them. Getting involved with an employer—any employer—crosses professional lines I can't afford to cross."
"Even if she kissed you first?"
"Even then."
Iris studied her brother. He looked so tired, shoulders curving inward, face pale except for the dark circles under his eyes. Always carrying too much. Always putting everyone else first.
"You need to figure out which one it was," she said finally.
"And how exactly would I go about doing that?"
