I shouldered past her into the flat and dropped the box on the counter. Warmth and the familiar scent of her spicy perfume wrapped around me. Mitch’s claws skittered on the floor as he bounded in from the lounge, tail going like a metronome set to rave.
“Hi, handsome boy,” I crooned, crouching to greet him. “Free for cuddles or on duty?”
“He’s off,” Zara said shortly. “I asked him to stand down.”
Mitch licked my hands, and I took my time petting him, while Zara just let the silence draw out as she walked to the kitchen counter.
I stood and shrugged off my coat, hanging it on the peg in exactly the place Zara preferred. Everything in her flat had a place. It made it easier for her to move around and also made it much easier for her to notice when something was off.
Like, say, her little sister’s entire vibe.
“Tea?” she asked, already reaching for the kettle.
“Please.” I sat at one of the chairs at the wee dining table, suddenly feeling twelve again, waiting for a telling-off about forgetting to put my shoes away.
Silence stretched thin between us as she filled the kettle, measured water with her usual precise efficiency, took down the sage-green mugs, put the teabags in. The normal sounds—running water, clink of a spoon against the mug, Mitch snuffling at my knee—should have been comforting.
They weren’t.
“So.” Zara’s voice cut through the quiet while the kettle hummed. “How’s life?”
The tone said everything that I needed to know.
“Grand,” I said, too brightly. How was I even going to get started downloading her on everything when she was in a mood like this? “Busy. You know. Work. Life, all that. You?”
Her head tipped slightly, her brows drawing together. “Do you think I’m an idiot, Liora?”
I winced. “Why do you sound like you’re about to fire me from being your sister?”
“I’m considering it,” she said flatly.
“Is this about me not popping by last week?” I asked. “I’m sorry I’ve just?—”
“Been sleeping with Torin and afraid to tell me about it?”
I choked on absolutely nothing. “Wow. Straight to it, then.”
Mitch whined and walked across the room to lean against her leg. “Am I wrong?”
“No,” I muttered.
Zara turned off the kettle with a decisive click. “How long, Liora?”
“How long what?”
“How long have you and Torin been…involved?” She said the last word like it tasted bad.
“Not that long,” I hedged. “Just a couple of…weeks?”
“So basically you moved in and jumped him.”
Anger flared hot under my ribs, surprising me. “Why are you mad about this? Because it’s Torin? Because of what happened with Avery? Because you think I’m incapable of separating my libido from my poor life choices?”
Zara set the mugs down with a soft thud and leaned her hands on the counter, facing me fully.
“Because you usually tell me everything,” she said quietly. “And this time, you didn’t.”
The words landed like a stone in my stomach.