Everything about Suhani seems the same at first. Despite the fact that her makeup is all intact, the dullness in her eyes and the droop in her narrow shoulders give away that she’s exhausted. Still, she’s one of those women who always looks glamorous, even when tired, whereas Natasha throws on whatever clothing is closest /fits/has been recently washed.

Suhani squints at Natasha. “What’s wrong?”

Natasha considers smiling and saying she’s fine, but that would be useless. She can’t bullshit her sister. Throughout their lives, Suhani could take one look at Natasha and tell she was lying about anything. A shitty report card, a hidden container of weed, a regretful hookup.

Natasha rolls her eyes. “I’m just a little over brunch.”

Suhani laughs. “Is it really that bad?”

“I don’t know,” Natasha says, and then, after seeing Suhani raise a skeptical eyebrow, adds, “It’s not that bad. I just always feel like an outsider. Like everyone’s waiting for me to screw up in some way.” She regrets the words the second they come out. Suhani won’t get it. Nobody will. Nobody understands that Natasha can be at her loneliest with the people she loves the most. Family, the place you’re always supposed to belong, can be the same place that shows you you never really will.

“You know that’s not true. You just have to get out of your head for a little bit, not overthink things,” Suhani says as she reads Natasha’s facial expressions. “Just have fun and be with all of us.”

“You’re right,” Natasha says, and, seeing a chance for a quick escape, adds, “I’m going to grab something from upstairs.”

She runs up the wooden staircase and breathes a sigh of relief once she’s safely in her room. Posters of Jonathan Taylor Thomas and Shah Rukh Khan are plastered across the walls. The bottom row of her bookshelf is lined with Beverly Cleary’s Ramona novels, Natasha’s favorite series since she was in the third grade. She and Suhani still sometimes call each other Ramona and Beezus.

She falls onto her unmade bed. Her sheets smell like the lavender fabric softener Mom’s used since she was in elementary school.

“Natasha! You’ve been upstairs forever!” Mom’s voice jolts Natasha awake. She looks at her phone and realizes she fell asleep for almost half an hour. Shit.

“Sorry! Coming down!” Natasha yells.

She splashes cold water on her face. The first thing she notices when she leaves her bedroom is the absence of sound. Where did everyone go?

“Hello?” Her voice echoes off the high ceilings.

The wooden steps creak as she makes her way downstairs. Everyone left? Thank God.