“How did you even know I was here?” June asks.
Excellent question, but Geneva is in no mood to answer it in my presence. She keeps a hand tightly clasped on June’s wrist, even as she turns to face me.
Standing next to one another makes their differences all the more obvious. Geneva is the taller one, more slender, but she has no shape. Just a bunch of straight lines that lack character.
“I’d like to speak to my sister alone,” she declares haughtily.
Her snotty tone makes me want to drag her out of here by her mousy brown hair. But I suppress the urge—for June’s sake, if nothing else.
I glance at June. We haven’t had any interaction since our little encounter in the shower. I’ve tried hard to erase those moments from my memory, but the more I try to forget them, the deeper they take ro
