“Val!” Scarlett props her phone on the bathroom sink as she does her makeup. “Are you in our new home?”

“I am indeed.”

“Let me see, let me see!”

I flip the camera around to reveal our space. It doesn’t take long.

“Is it just me or—”

“It’s not just you. It’s smaller than advertised.”

“Did our rent shrink too?”

“The landlord literally said that we’ll make it work since we shared a womb.”

“If I had time to stop putting on my mascara to roll my eyes, I would. I need to jet in a minute. Please tell me you’re going to Times Square.”

Between Scarlett’s gig and this huge modeling campaign I booked, our dreams have gotten in the way of celebrating Death-Cast Eve together. But that hasn’t stopped Scarlett from pushing me to attend the Death-Cast party in Times Square.

“I don’t know, Scar. The jet lag—”

Scarlett makes a buzzer sound. “Wrong answer. You lost three hours, but you’re not tired. Try again.”

“I should still rest for tomorrow’s shoot.”

“You’re going to be too wired to actually fall asleep, Val. So instead of tossing and turning on that cheap air mattress, go experience what’s either going to be a historic event or the biggest prank that’s ever been played on this country.”

“I’d love to see Mom and Dad’s faces if Death-Cast is proven to be real.”

“Me too, but I’m not hanging around to photograph them.”

“You’re leaving straight from the party?”

“Absolutely. Especially after how they treated you earlier.”

I’m still a little in shock. It’s like the sting that comes from scraping my elbows and knees when I’ve fallen during my runs. “I appreciate the solidarity.”

“I’d be a horrible twin—and human—to not be on your side. But let’s not give them the power of thinking about them tonight or ever again. In the very near future, Mom and Dad won’t be able to ignore you as your face pops up all over the country, including their magazines.”

“I bet they’ll unsubscribe.”

“Which means you’ve won. Now get out to Times Square before you take that over too.”

I take a deep breath, knowing she’s right. “I wish you were here with me.”

“Same, but the money I make tonight will buy us front-row seats to our first Broadway show.”

“Don’t you mean one month’s rent?”

“We need to live a little.”

“That sounds like living a lot.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Val.”

“Good point.”