Karla shrugged her arm out of Aimee's grasp and turned back to the stove. She bit her lower lip, pulling bacon out of the frying pan and placing the crispy strips on the paper towel. She wasn't sure if she should tell her sister what she did or not. Aimee could be a judgmental prude at times, and Karla already beat herself up enough about what she did. She didn't need the sanctimonious lecture. Yet, Aimee was also like a dog with a bone when it came to wanting something. She would nag Karla to death until Aimee wore her sister down. Like now. She wasn't pressing the issue. She just stood there, her arms over her chest, waiting, as if she knew Karla would tell her. It was rude. She wouldn't do it. No. Not this time. She would just fix her BLT and ignore Aimee's staring, judging, obnoxious…
