Callista.

I remain near the bed as my adoptive sister circles me, like I’m prey caught in the web she has woven. Her face is deadly serene as if she doesn’t have a care for this world, yet her voice is hard as steel when she talks.

And again, she is wearing my clothes. These further cement my theory on how she’s deceiving my mate.

The audacity of this woman, I swear.

“What’s up with your closet recently, Ruelle?” I ask, instead of answering her question, “Did Mommy and Daddy ...