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Lilah batted her hands away, cheeks pink as Lizzie giggled behind them.

“You two are somehow simultaneously the best and the fucking worst! How do you manage such a feat?”

“Ha!” Lizzie snorted. “Years of training. Near telepathic communication. Superior humor. Unrivaled intelligence⁠—”

“Fuck you both!” Lilah cried, though a reluctant smile betrayed her amusement.

Lizzie bumped her shoulder. “You’ll find your person, Bug. And when you do, we’ll help you plan the perfect wedding for you, if you want.”

Lilah smiled down at her shoes, toying with her fingers. “I’d like that a lot.”

Lizzie tapped her chin, eyes narrowing. “You did have a point, though. Charlotte was a bit of a workaholic until Alina came along.”

“Exactly,” Lilah said, chin lifting like a smug sunflower.

“Excuse me,” Charlotte huffed. “I don’t appreciate the insinuation that my own flesh and blood thought I’d die a spinster.” Charlotte pinned them both with an unamused stare.

Both of them reached out, pulling her into a hug.

“We’d never let you die alone,” Lilah promised.

“Yes, we’re dying together, remember?” Lizzie said matter-of-factly. “No more than six minutes apart.”

Charlotte shook her head, swallowing the swell of affection. “You’re both lucky I love you.”

“We love you too,” Lizzie murmured as the three stared at their reflections, all standing on the edge of a new chapter.

“Even if you do die a spinster,” Lilah added, smothering a grin.

Lizzie bit back a laugh, fighting to keep her expression neutral. “But not if she becomes a crazy cat lady. Unacceptable.”

They looked back and forth between each other in the mirror and simultaneously dissolved into laughter. Charlotte allowed herself to hope. As she took in Elizabeth’s dress, it truly settled in. She wanted Ali for the long haul. And she wanted to have this moment with her sisters again, but in preparation for her wedding and someday Lilah’s, too.

30

ALI

Water streamed over her hands as she worked the streaks of color from her brush, circling it through the soap puddled in her palm until a whirl of pastel suds bloomed between her fingers. The moment the water ran clear, she tapped the brush against the sink, and smoothed its hairs back into careful position as she padded back toward her studio.

Her phone buzzed against her desk.

Charlotte’s picture brightened her screen, and Ali smiled as she answered, leaving faint suds smeared across the glass.

“Hello, darling. What are you up to?”

Ali’s toes curled at the smokey tone humming through the line.

“Finishing up a portrait,” Ali admitted, eyeing the piece over her shoulder.

The portrait captured the brightness of Charlotte’s full smile; a scene burned into her mind when they swam naked in the sea. She looked rather like a naiad, the water dripping from her hands down into the surf where it pooled around her hips. Her posture, for once, easy. Her beauty, effortless.

“Well, you need to shower and get dressed,” Charlotte instructed. “We’re going out.”

“Oh, are we?”

“Indeed.”

“And what if I have plans?”