58: THE WILL OF WILMA

I kick off my shoes and flop into bed with a loud sigh. I’ve already unpacked half of my suitcase, but going through the other half right now feels like it might take me fifteen years. I inhale my sheets and sigh again. “I never thought I’d miss it’s smell of laundry detergent and spilled French perfume.”

Evin laughs at my comment, pausing from setting up her blank canvas ear the window as usual. She has just finished watering the plants, and although the windows are cracked open, the smell of wet earth and acrylic paint is still a bit heavy in the air. “Did you miss you bed that much?”

I shake my head. “You have no idea.”

A knock comes from the door and then it swings open the next second. I lift my head to see Wilma standing by the doorway in her usual school uniform, waving at Evin and then beaming at me. “Heyyy sis…” She leans on the doorway, wiggling her eyebrows at me then pausing and pointing to the pillow next to me. “You’re not… hiding a knife somewhere are you?”

I get to my