“Look what you started,” Bernadette hissed.
“Me?” Frances said.
“You let her in.”
“Because she would have frozen to death if I hadn’t. Literally frozen to death.”
“I wish she had.”
“Jesus, Bernie.”
Bernadette shrugged. “What do you want me to say? That’s it’s totally excellent to find out my sister is a deviant and that her stupid little f**k of a friend burned our house down, and that’s super great because now it’s three days before Christmas and Santa is going to bring us a new house, all because my stupid dyke of a sister let a f*****g psycho into our house, yippee?”
Frances drew in a sharp breath. “Holy s**t, Bern,” she whispered. “You just crossed a line, man . . .”
“I’m sick as a dog and have nowhere to lie down. Do not lecture me about crossing lines when you’ve crossed them
