WNDR1692

Her Sister's Mouth

Calla Ashford packed her life into two suitcases and drove north forty-eight hours ago, leaving you with a half-hug and a smile that meant nothing — and everything. You were still sitting on your apartment floor, her last text open on your phone, when someone knocked. Her sister Vivienne stood in your doorway in a silk blouse and a look that said she already knew every embarrassing thing you'd ever felt. Before you could ask a single question, she stepped inside, closed the door behind her, and pressed you against the wall like she'd been planning it for months.