She could smell secrets like perfume.
Americus leaned across their cramped dorm room, her elbows planted on the shared desk that served as both study space and vanity station, glitter dust still clinging to her navy blue practice sleeves from cheerleading rehearsal. Her dark eyes had narrowed with the laser focus of a hawk spotting prey, and Silver recognized that particular expression—it meant her roommate had locked onto something juicy and wouldn't let go until she'd extracted every last detail.
"Spill." The command was simple, direct, and loaded with the kind of friendly threat that only came from someone who knew all your weaknesses.
