27
Abigail stretched and rolled over in Mateo’s bed, inhaling deeply. The sheets smelled like him, an enticing blend of soap and shaving cream. She curled her fingers deeper into the fabric and snuggled down.
“Isn’t this kind of creepy?” a voice whispered.
“Probably,” someone replied.
Abigail’s eyes flickered open and she saw two figures looming over her. The scream popped out of her mouth like a Jack-in-the-Box and the women hovering over the bed leapt back, one tumbling to her knees.
“Abigail! Abigail!” A familiar voice urged. “It’s okay! It’s us!”
The scream died abruptly and swift silence filled the bedroom. Abigail stared at Ida and Melissa who wore sheepish expressions as they picked themselves off the floor. She pulled the blanket closer and groaned.
“What are you doing here?
