Emma
Sophie's apartment hadn't changed since college - still that organized chaos that somehow made perfect sense to her. Makeup samples covered every surface like abstract art, and the air smelled of coffee and fresh nail polish.
"Here." Sophie pressed a steaming mug into my hands, the ceramic warming my cold fingers. "Your favorite - vanilla latte with extra foam. Now tell me what's really wrong. You've been fidgeting since you got here."
I traced the rim of my coffee cup, watching cream swirl in hypnotic patterns. "Vivian's back."
"Who's Vivian?" Sophie curled up in her favorite armchair, the one we'd rescued from a sidewalk sale during sophomore year.
"The twins' biological mother." The words tasted bitter.
Sophie's expression sobered immediately. "What do you mean, back?"
"She
