Chapter Forty Three

LARA

The bathroom mirror was fogged at the corners, and Blaire was leaning into it, swiping on mascara like she was prepping for a Vogue shoot and not a Thursday at the office. I was half-dressed, hair still wet from the shower, towel wrapped around me as I rifled through my top drawer trying to find a pair of socks that weren’t married to their dryer-missing soulmate.

“You know what we should do