"She texted you?"
"We have a rapport."
"Since when?"
"Since I started feeding her information about your emotional vulnerabilities in exchange for book recommendations." Iris glanced up with a completely unrepentant expression. "What? She was going to figure it out eventually. I just accelerated the timeline."
I stared at my fourteen-year-old sister, who had apparently been running intelligence operations behind my back for weeks. "You're terrifying."
"Thank you. Now go shower. You smell like expensive perfume and regret."
The shower helped. Hot water and steam and fifteen minutes of not thinking about anything except whether I'd remembered to buy more shampoo. I hadn't. I used Iris's strawberry stuff instead and tried not to think about how I was going to smell vaguely like a fruit smoothie for the rest of the day.
