“Where the hell have you been?”

You fidget at the entrance to the en‑suite flat you share with Cecily, Ava—and more recently, Annika.

She was supposed to stay in a secured solitary dorm her family arranged for her, but since the three of you like her—and you have a spare room—you invited her to stay with you. Apparently, her brother was against it, but once again she went straight to her father for approval, with her mother’s help.

The other day, you talked to her mother over a video call, and she was the sweetest, most stunning woman you’ve ever seen. Okay, maybe top five, competing with Mum, Aunt Elsa, and your grandma.

Anyway, Annika’s mother doesn’t look the part of being married into the mafia at all. But then again, Anni doesn’t look the part of a mafia princess either, so maybe it’s hereditary.

Your flat is cozy, with a spacious living area, four bedrooms, and a kitchen with black countertops.

The source of the question the moment you walked in was Ava. She’s dressed in fluffy pajamas and a robe with black and pink feathers. Her hair is pulled into a messy bun, and a white mask covers her face.

Cecily peeks out from her room, black‑framed glasses covering half her face, wearing a hoodie that says When I’m dead, bury me facedown so the world can kiss my ass.

“You’re finally back. We were worried sick about you.”

You let your hand fall to your side and rub your palm against your shorts. How are you supposed to tell them where you’ve been?