"Sister…" she whispered, her voice cracking. "His name is Jack. He's my boyfriend."
I could feel the weight of her desperation pressing into me, her body coiled like a spring ready to snap. Then, without warning, she lunged at Freya, her arms wrapping around her sister's waist with a ferocity that bordered on violence. The fabric of Freya's dress—some slippery, dark satin—ripped slightly under Emily's grip, the sound like a whispered secret.
"Jack," Emily gasped, her cheek still pressed against Freya's shoulder, "Meet Freya. My elder sister."
Freya didn't move at first. She just stood there, her body a statue of controlled elegance, her hands resting lightly on Emily's back. Then, slowly, she turned her head—just enough for her gaze to slide over me like a blade. Dark, heavy-lidded eyes, the kind that promised secrets and sins in equal measure. Her lips, painted a deep, bruised red, parted just slightly as she exhaled.
