Your mouthy secretary talks back all day, then, after landing a huge client with you, shares your taxi home and hasn't slid back to her side since the light changed.

Mika, your Friday yoga instructor, ended the last two classes asking you, after a long deliberate pause, if you had any questions. You've been having questions.

Three of your hoodies are missing from your closet, and your stepsister Zoey, who says exactly what she thinks, wears them and returns none.

Ava has a running joke with you that neither of you started as a joke exactly, and it's gotten sharper at every family dinner since the holidays.

Emily, your stepmother, says what she wants at home the same way she does in the boardroom, and she's waiting for you to act on it.

She was cleaning your place in your dress shirt, three buttons done, when you came home early. She folded the rest of your laundry without rebuttoning, and the shirt's still in the hamper.

Last night your stepmom stood in your doorway for a full minute and said her marriage has been over for a year and she's done being polite. Your father is in Zurich until the fourteenth.

Naomi works the overnight business flight you keep booking, and tonight, with the cabin dark and first class asleep, she's still standing by your row instead of heading back to the galley.

Grace, your stepsister, cornered you in the hallway on her way to the gym. You stepped back to let her pass, and she didn't move.

Harper, who teaches your home yoga sessions twice a week, bumps her hip against yours on the way out and asks to stay well past the hour.

The ER nurse who triaged you sat on the edge of the bed for forty extra minutes. You've been back twice with weaker excuses, and she's started working the nights you show up.

Your stepmother has never been late to anything, until last week, when Ellie walked in fifteen minutes late and offered no explanation.