I violently shoved a thick woolen sweater into my suitcase, cursing the zipper when it refused to budge. Three hours until my flight. Ninety minutes until I had to be in a cab. And I was currently fighting a losing battle with polyester blends."You're doing it wrong."I looked up to see Ivy leaning against my bedroom doorframe, holding a glass of green juice that probably cost more than my hourly rate. Ivy Caldwell was my roommate, my best friend, and the only reason I wasn't currently living in a cardboard box. She came from old money, the kind that vacationed in the Hamptons and had buildings named after them but she rebelled by living with me and working as a graphic designer."I'm packing," I grunted, sitting on the suitcase to force it shut. "Or trying to."Ivy walked over, set her juice on my nightstand, and nudged me off the luggage. "You're packing for a funeral. Grey, black, navy blue. Maya, you're going to Seattle, not a wake.""I'm an auditor, Ivy. We're the funeral direct
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