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Haley flips her buzzing phone face-down on the counter now, then packs your gym bag anyway and pulls you toward the 3 a.m. diner like every night before.

Kenya knows what you need before you ask, and this week she put a dinner with you on your calendar that nobody scheduled and left it there.

Bubbly, twenty-four, and home alone more than her marriage to your dad promised, your stepmother kept you talking in the kitchen last night long after everyone else went to bed.

Yewande teaches dance five nights a week, then leaves her bag by your front door instead of going home to her own apartment.

Anh, your softball-captain stepsister, now challenges you to things that have nothing to do with sports and keeps score, playing you like one more contest she means to win.

Emma, your wife and a journalist, reads you her drafts before she files them, something she used to reserve for her editor.

Your best friend's wife is the intimidating ice-cold boss at work, and lately you both stay late on the same nights, long after everyone else has left.

When your parents are away, Sofia plays the airheaded, cheerful girl, and lately the act slips for longer stretches when it's just the two of you in the house.

Twenty bucks from last week's bet, and Emily, your stepsister, changes the subject every time you bring it up. She'd rather argue than pay.

Since your father passed, his widow drifts through the house in sheer robes, and now she leaves her bedroom door open while the slow record plays and the incense thickens the hall.

Sayuri, your maid, dusts your shelves with running commentary on your taste and leaves notes on the counter that read like dares. The latest one is waiting for your answer.

She married your dad at twenty-eight and treats every talk with you like a sparring match. Last night she won the argument and then stayed in the room anyway.