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I suppose it’s time I got used to it—to them.

“Yeah,” I say at last. “I’ll be there.”

THREE

HOLLY

“It’s the most wonderful time, of the—”

I flip off the car radio before Andy Williams belts out the virtues of the Christmas season. From the passenger seat, Mere gives me a curious look.

“What?” I ask, pushing my sunglasses up the bridge of my nose.

“You skipped the song.”

I shrug off the comment. “I’m not in the mood.”

Given the way my life has turned upside down during the past twenty-four hours, I’d say I’m well within my rights to not be in the mood for all things Christmas.

She scoffs. “You? Not in the mood for Christmas music?”

“Is that so weird? They’ve been playing the damn stuff non-stop since Halloween.”

“And normally you love it.”

She’s right. Most years, I’m one of those over-the-top Christmas people. We all are. We’re the kind who put our Christmas trees up before Thanksgiving. We have closets overflowing with ugly festive sweaters. I’ve even perfected a recipe for eggnog pancakes.

But now… Nope. I’m done with Christmas this year. Just as soon as I make sure the Noble Outerwear Christmas Eve party is the best one ever.

“Is something wrong?” she asks.

“Why would anything be wrong?”

“If nothing was wrong, you wouldn’t have said that through gritted teeth.”

“I said nothing was wrong, which means nothing is wrong.”

Mere arches an eyebrow that says more than words could. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

That’s the problem with being a triplet. You almost never get anything past your sisters. You’re too in-tuned with each other’s mannerisms and thoughts to miss anything.

I frown at Mere. “I didn’t think you liked Shakespeare.”

“Shakespeare? What does he have to do with anything?”

I snort. “Who do you think said that?”

“I’m pretty sure I heard someone say it on an episode ofGilmore Girls.”

“Wow.” I roll my eyes. “You’re so cultured.”

“I know, right.”

I open my mouth to say something else but clamp it shut. Even though she isn’t here with us, I can practically hear Ivy scolding us for bickering.

But Ivy isn’t here. That makes me the senior-ranking Carol sister. As the senior ranking Carol sister, it’s my responsibility to put a stop to the bickering.

I sigh but say nothing, wiggling the fingers I have gripped around the steering wheel.

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