She looked at me then, finally, and her face did a funny flicker. The older-sister, nonchalant, I can’t-be-bothered armor slipped and underneath was a girl who was so unbelievably tired. Then she put it right back on. “It’s fine. I’m a grown woman who can handle herself, and you are a precious widdle baby who needs textbooks. Take. The. Money.”
My own mask must’ve slipped and revealed that, underneath, I was a girl who was afraid that my big sister was going to hurt herself. Seeing it, Giana softened. She reached over and tucked my hair behind my ear. The motion made her blouse gap and I saw fingerprint bruises along the top of her breast. But she forced my eyes to meet hers.
“Hey. Look at me. I’m okay. I’m always okay. That’s my thing, remember? You go be smart, and I’ll go be okay, and
