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I check my makeup in the mirror one last time before peering at Bria. “Did you bring what I asked?”
Bria nods, jumps up from her seat on the floor to grab her purse from the bed, and shuffles through it. “If Dad flips his shit because I stole this, I’m blaming it on you.”
She hands over the device, and I slip it into my bag.
“Dad doesn’t inventory them.” I zip my bag and shift my focus to a gloomy Isabella. “Go downstairs and keep Luca company.”
It’s not like I’m throwing my sister out to the Mafia wolves. Luca has been the topic of at least one discussion a day after she spotted him at my engagement party. Now, instead of talking about him to every person in our family, she can speak to him while covering for Bria and me. It’s a win-win.
“And what should I tell him when he asks why I ditched my sisters to hang out with him?” Isabella raises a brow.
“Tell him we got into a fight,” Bria answers. “You’re giving us the silent treatment.”
Isabella rolls her eyes. “Gee, that’ll make me sound like a grown woman.”
Bria grabs a pillow and tosses it at her. “Oh, shush. Go flirt with the man and have fun.”
Bria helps me gather what we need, and I groan while shoving open the heavy window. A sudden gust of wind smacks me in the face, holding me back for a moment. I snap my fingers and gesture toward the open window. Bria searches the room, attempting to find something to hold it open for us. I’m grateful the windows don’t have alarms on them.
“Ugh,” Isabella groans. “I’ll shut the window behind you.”
I blow Isabella a kiss, and Bria smacks her lips against her cheek.
“I expect a Vegas trip on my twenty-first,” Isabella says as I crouch against the windowsill with Bria behind me.
“Yeah, yeah,” I say, waving off her comment.
“I can’t believe Benny thought you’d just sit at home,” Bria says.
“I pegged him for being smarter,” Isabella adds.
Goose bumps form along my skin as I peer back at Bria. “Do you want to go first?”
“Hell no!” Bria shakes her head. “This is a window we’ve never jumped out of before. I’m not about to be the guinea pig.” She gives me a gentle shove to where my body is halfway outside.
I toss my heels and bag out the window before smiling at Isabella. “Have fun. Go flirt. We’ll text if there’s an emergency.”
I wiggle my fingers. I’m a little rusty with mysneaking out of windowsskills. I crawl out of the window and hang by my hands. The first advice I read from Google years ago when I researched sneaking out of windows is, you want your feet to be as close to the ground as possible. I slowly lower myself, inch by inch, and attempt to roll when I hit the ground.
My fall is anything but graceful.
I collapse onto the ground. Freshly mowed grass sticks to my skin, and I’m flicking it off as Bria comes down next. Since she witnessed myhow not to do itdemonstration, her jump is more agile.
“Be safe,” Isabella calls out, cupping her hand around her mouth while keeping her voice low.
I wave to her, and she slams the window shut.
“I can’t believe we’re in our twenties and sneaking out windows,” Bria says, flipping dirt off her foot before slipping her sneakers on. “How sad are we?”
“I think the better question is, how sad are our lives that we have to do this?” I grumble as we rush through the backyard.
Benny said the home has security cameras, but I don’t know their locations.
For all I know, he could be watching my subpar window acrobatics from a camera monitor and stop us from leaving. So far, we’re in the clear.
We pass the playset, which is missing a swing, and I nearly break a nail as I unlatch the fence.
We did it.
