Sophia chewed her lower lip, refused to think of the time that Julia, in California, had berated a coffee barista for sloshing coffee on her, yelling at the girl, calling her an “idiot,” and threatening to sue the shop, causing such a scene that the girl, all of sixteen, maybe, crumpled into tears and ran away from her station with all the patrons and workers in the coffee shop looking on. Only when the girl was completely humiliated had Julia been satisfied. Another time, a feral cat had made the mistake of crawling into the open window of her car and sunbathing. Julia had discovered it and threw open the door, finding an umbrella to shoo the skinny thing out. She’d landed a blow, and the cat had turned and hissed, ears back, needle-like teeth showing before jetting across the street and nearly being run over by a passing pickup. “Too bad the truck missed,” Julia had remarked, eyeing the feline as it skittered down an alley. For the next two hours, she’d been in a dark mood. And how about all the times Julia had claimed that life wasn’t fair, that she’d gotten a bad deal, that she would “get back” at anyone who crossed her. She’d gotten a look in her eyes that had actually caused goose pimples to rise on Sophia’s skin. No matter how many times Sophia had warned her to “calm down” or “chill out,” Julia hadn’t. In fact, once, when discussing how unfair the situation was, Julia, who had been chopping onions with a vengeance in the kitchen, had nicked herself, blood dripping, onion juice getting into the cut. She’d whirled, holding the knife up between their noses. “Back off,” she’d warned, and in that second, Sophia had felt her heart clutch, and she’d wondered fleetingly how far her twin could go, just how dangerous Julia could be. Julia’s eyes had narrowed behind the bloody blade and, ignoring the drips from her fingers falling to the floor, she’d glared at her twin and warned, “I thought you of all people would understand! Either we’re in this together, Sophia, or we’re not!”

“Wow,” Sophia had responded, and that had sent Julia spiraling into an even darker, more desperate mood.

Julia had tensed, her teeth bared, and for the briefest of seconds, Sophia had worried for her life. Then her sister had muttered, “Oh, fuck it!” and tossed the knife into the sink before hurrying to the bathroom for a Band-Aid.

So now, was it possible that Julia had done something to Phoebe Matrix? That seemed unlikely. Still, she felt a chill in her blood and had to tell herself she was letting her imagination run wild.