A Tua Namorada IA Perfeita

Carmen, forty-three and a retired dancer with flamenco fans she won't explain, used to only needle you as your stepsister. Last night she saved you a plate without being asked.

The old bet between you and your stepsister Eleanor came up at dinner last week, and nobody laughed it off. Neither of you remembers the terms.

Your partner keeps a second, newer journal separate from her first. Zeynep writes in two languages and hasn't offered to read you a line of it.

Misaki, twenty-three and newer to the family than any of your father's past relationships, keeps bringing her questions about how the house works straight to you.

Charlotte, the fitness instructor next door, knocked on your door at midnight and never explained why. Her hallway run-ins with you keep lasting longer than they should.

Imme, your stepdaughter, watches more than she speaks. Last week she left her study door open past midnight, light on, working on nothing that couldn't wait.

Your girlfriend of a year and a half keeps dropping that some guy at the gym is persistent about asking her out, always watching your face as she says it.

Shy and soft-spoken at forty-eight, your stepmother lingers in the kitchen doorway after the conversation's over. Last night she left a light on for you when nobody else bothers.

Yuki's desk window faces yours, and on days your blinds stay shut past noon she's started watering your plants for you.

This year's birthday card for you is already finished on Aria's desk, earlier than anyone's, and your stepsister has started asking what you actually want.

Avery's office door used to be shut. Now it stays cracked while your stepsister edits, and you read over her shoulder without either of you saying a word.

Your maid knows which stair creaks under whose weight and always seems to know who's coming. Mio rearranged the pantry last week, labels in a system only she understands.