Chapter 25“Is that the…Oh, I don’t know, some strange Icelandic word?” Rae said, then gestured to the piece of Ikea furniture that Kit had in her hand. “Wait. You’re not supposed to attach that thingie to this thingie, to make the perfect thingie-majig.”
“Crap.” Kit huffed. She’d already attached the wrong legs to her desk not ten minutes ago. Her sister had taken over that task when Kit felt as if she’d cry or drop-kick it across the room. So she’d moved not the shelving unit for her apartment, but apparently even something as simple as a white shelf that was called an EKENABBEN was too hard for her. “This is impossible.”
Kit chucked the instructions across the room. “f**k this. Why do I even need furniture?”
“Because you’re not some noir detective who only lives for murder and crime.
