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“Gotcha again! Man, you should have seen your face.”
I take a breath. Then another. And another until I don’t feel the need to smash Mari’s face into a million tiny shards of broken phone.
Omega problems.
“You’re a bully,” I say under my breath.
She shrugs. “That’s what siblings do.”
“Is there a genuine reason you’re calling, or is it solely to torture me?”
“Can’t I check on my twin sister without needing a reason?”
And I see my chance to get her back. “Aww, did you miss me, Mar? Are you just so lost on that big old mountain without me?”
She scrunches her nose up in disgust. “Ew, no. Stop it. I hardly think of you at all.”
“Sure. You keep telling yourself that one. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Marigold.”
“OK, you’re done. This was a mistake. Goodbye.”
Mari ends the call. I think I actually won that one.
Nice.
Is it immature to prank your overly emotional twin sister because you miss her but wouldn’t dare admit that you have squishy feelings too sometimes?
Absolutely.
Was I bothered by it?
Not even a little.
Because Maria was actually checking in on me to say she’s got a handle on things and that shedoesmiss me. Even if she didn’t say a single one of those words, her intent was clear.
At least to me.
Mentioning hemlock and Queen Anne’s lace was her way of letting me know she’d been paying attention. You don’t just pick the most easy to confuse and deadly herbs by chance.
It still takes a while for my adrenaline to dissipate, but once it does, I go back to researching my plan, scouring the internet for relevant international—human and wolf—precedent, and perfecting the speech I was going to give.
After a few hours of polishing, when I’m satisfied the speech is as good as it can be, I close my notes app and hop in the shower. I take my time sudsing and scrubbing, and once I’ve done everything twice, I almost feel like a whole new Willa.
“At least I don’t have to worry about my clothes being too plain,” I mumble and grab another pair of jeans from my bag. I shuck on a lightweight sweater and head into the living area part of the guest suite.
Only to find Claudia waiting there for me.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, exuberance leaking from her every pore. “Rory let me up when I told him how important what I have to tell you is.”
I dismiss the urge to call her on the odd, not strictly socially acceptable behavior and instead usher her out of the guest suite with me. We stand in the hallway just outside the door and I just stare at her.
She takes a minute to get it, but eventually it clicks.
“I shouldn’t have barged in on you.”
“And?”
“And I won’t do it again.”
