"Don't be ridiculous." Camilla grabs my hand and tugs me toward the stairs. "Come raid my closet. I've got more clothes than I know what to do with."

In her bedroom, which could rival a small department store, she pulls out a yellow bikini. "Here, wear this. It's brand new, tags still on. And yellow is your color, trust me."

I hold it up, heat flashing up my neck. "Where's the rest of it?"

"It's a bikini, not a wetsuit. You cannot tell me you're self-conscious with a body that looks like a Sports Illustrated model."

The compliment makes me uncomfortable. Ever since my body had been exposed and exploited, I'd felt uneasy baring my skin to anyone. Sensing my discomfort, Camilla walks over to another drawer and hands me a throw-over crochet dress.

"This looks expensive," I say, holding up the dress.

"Oh it is, but it was also a 'mom trying to buy my love' gift so I don't care if you cut it up and used it as a dish cloth."

I sense the hurt beneath the joke. Camilla has a hard exterior but like most of us, there's an underlying amount of pain that she doesn't let the world see.

"Where is your family, by the way?"

"They flew back to Beijing yesterday. Some big business deal or some shit that Dad is trying to close." She shrugs, pretending it's no big deal, but I can see the faint disappointment in her expression. "So, the whole house is mine. Well now, it's ours! I don't even know when they'll be back. If they even come back this summer."

It's on the tip of my tongue to say I'm sorry, but I know Camilla wouldn't want that. She doesn't do pity or apologies. So instead, I shift the subject, clutching the swimsuit tighter under my arm.

"Thank you, Camilla. Really."

She nudges me with her shoulder, her smile warm and easy again. "Thank me after you open your present."

"What? No. I don't⁠⁠—"

"Nora, open the damn present," she interrupts, shoving a ridiculously large box into my hands. "Technically, it's from Marcus, Mia, and me. But I will be taking all the credit for the idea."

"This is too much," I say, shaking my head.

"You don't even know what it is yet. Could be a pair of really ugly socks in a really big box."

It weighs more than socks. I raise an eyebrow at her before tearing into the wrapping. My heart lurches when I lift the lid and see it—a brand-new laptop.

"Camilla, this is…" My voice wavers, and the words get stuck in my throat.

"The best gift ever? Yeah, I know." She grins, crossing her arms. "Now you can write your next ten books on something that doesn't belong in a museum. You're welcome."