AMARIS
We were fucked.
No.
Let me be more accurate.
Rowan was fucked and I was more fucked because I was the one sitting on a vanity with my underwear on the floor when the door opened, which put me at a clear disadvantage in any version of this conversation that was about to happen.
I had imagined this scenario before, the one where someone walked in, and somehow in every version of it the person was faceless and forgettable and easy to manage.
I had a whole collection of imaginary disasters and none of them had ever looked like this. None of them had ever been Nia specifically, standing in a doorway with her arms at her sides looking like she had seen everything and was already deciding what to do about it.
The door had swung all the way open and a familiar figure stood in the frame, and for exactly one second all three of us were completely still in the low lamplight of the room with nowhere to hide and nothing useful to say, and then she said it.
"Oh my God. Amaris."
