“My sister doesn’t get car sick,” Finley said from behind Marco. “Why are we at her work? I thought we were going to her apartment?”

“This is her apartment,” Tyler said. “Above the office.”

Finley smiled. “Fantastic. Let’s go.”

Marco pulled an extra-large roller suitcase with several duffels and bags stacked on top down the sidewalk.

I scrambled from the truck. “What are you doing?”

“Oh,” Finley said. “Do you need assistance with your luggage?”

“No. It’s a one-bedroom apartment. Why aren’t you staying at the house?”

Finley seemed annoyed. “Because our parents are there, and they don’t know I’m here. If they knew, they would be at your door because they are desperate to see you, too.”

Finley turned on her heels, waiting for me at the door with Marco.

I chewed on my thumbnail, gazing up at Tyler who was still in the driver seat. “It’s times like these I regret not being religious.”

“Should I come?” he asked. “At least let me help with your bags.”

I shook my head, defeated. “I don’t want you to see this.”

With worry in his eyes, Tyler waved to me, waiting until I reached the door before he backed away.

I led Finley and Marco upstairs, directing Marco to the sofa and Finley to my bedroom.

“This is gorgeous! I was worried what you would be able to afford on your wages, but this is exquisite! Well done, baby sister!”

“Well,” I said, watching her unpack as if she had lit herself on fire, “my boss gave me a great deal.”

“What is Tyler’s apartment like? Is it this nice?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “But it’s decent.”

“Then why not just move him here? And why haven’t you started packing yet?”

“We just decided over Christmas.”

“Thank God I’m here,” Finley said. “Marco can help you pack.”

“I’m really … I’m okay. Tyler will be over later. We were kind of going to do it together.”

“Don’t be silly….” Finley began, but she finally looked at me long enough to see what I knew she would. “What aren’t you telling me? Oh my hell, Ellie! Are you pregnant?” she screeched.

“What? No! I can barely take care of myself.” I left her for the kitchen, yanking open the fridge and popping the top of my favorite cheap beer.

“Ew, what the fuck is that?” Finley asked.

“Beer,” I said, holding up the can. “Want some?” I asked, some of it still in my mouth.

“No. You’ve developed some atrocious habits Mother will definitely not be impressed with.”

“Well, I don’t plan on seeing her, so I’m good.”

“Ellie,” Finley began.

“I told them. They’re dead to me.”

“That’s harsh. They were only trying to help you.”

I finished the can and opened another.

Finley’s nose flared. “I can see it worked.”