“Isn’t it?” I ask before I can stop myself.
Rayana turns to look at me, and for a moment her mask slips. Something pained rips through for a second before the smooth charm slides back into place.
“Would you believe me if I said no?”
“Probably not.”
“Always the smart girl.” She links her other arm through mine, so I’m caught between her and Queenie like some kind of reluctant filling in a rich-person sandwich. “Come on. Let’s explore our little nest before the champagne arrives.”
The girls’ cabin is, predictably, gorgeous.
Three bedrooms branching off a shared living space, each one with a view of the forest and a bed piled with enough blankets to survive an apocalypse.
The living area centers around a massive stone fireplace already burning with warmth, flanked by overstuffed sofas
