I stared at the four Valentine sisters crowding my apartment's tiny entryway, each one looking like they'd just stepped out of a fashion magazine despite the early hour.
"Wait," I said, processing the garment bags and makeup cases they'd hauled up four flights of stairs. "Why are you guys here? The festival isn't until next weekend."
Harlow bounced forward, her twin tails swinging as she pulled out a clipboard. "You promised to help!"
"I promised to show up on the actual day. Not—"
"And we wanted to get your fitting done anyway!" She thrust a sheet of paper at my face. "See? Your name's right here on the volunteer list!"
I scanned the document. Sure enough, there was my signature. Except I'd never touched this paper in my life.
"I didn't sign this."
"Well," Harlow said, her smile turning sheepish. "I signed it for you. But you agreed to help when I bit your neck, so technically it counts!"
"That's not how consent works."
