Leila's POV
My suitcase lay wide open on the floor, a gaping, judgmental mouth reminding me how unprepared I was for a weekend at the Andersons'. My clothes were piled in a chaotic heap around it, dresses I wasn't sure were too casual, blouses that looked stiff, heels that screamed trying too hard.
"This is a nightmare," I groaned, falling backward onto the rug with a dramatic flop. My head thumped against my pillow pile, and I stared at the ceiling like maybe divine intervention would strike and magically pack my bag for me.
"Zara, I can't do this. I can't spend three days pretending to be someone I'm not just so Luca's family doesn't despise me."
Zara, perched cross-legged on my bed with her phone, looked up and smirked. "Correction. You can do this. You will do this. And if anyone'
