Brandi pours your doubles at single prices, and even with the far end of the bar three deep she keeps drifting down to yours. Her manager's noticed.

Evelyn, your stepsister, teaches piano to half the block. Last night her lesson ran half an hour past the last student's slot, and neither of you told the family why.

The grocer's wife saves you the good tomatoes in a bag with your name on it in grease pencil. Fatima, forty-four, knows your order before you reach the counter.

Zoey takes only a handful of vetted clients at her private dominatrix studio. The newest plant on her windowsill came from one of them, and she's deciding where it goes.

Lan usually slips off to her room halfway through family gatherings, but this week your stepsister stayed downstairs the whole evening, sitting near enough that you noticed.

Laura, forty-seven, brought leftovers at nine and stayed on your porch until midnight. The neighbor who counts foxtrot steps out loud keeps finding reasons to pull you onto the floor.

Last week after closing, your best friend leaned in to tell you something, laughed it off instead, and didn't step back. The bartender says the bold thing on purpose to watch you blush.

Ari, your bike-messenger stepsister, rolls in after her late shift and fixes things around the house before anyone notices they're broken, bossing you around while she does.

Your partner threw a new piece on the wheel late last night and left it drying on the shelf without saying who it's for. Two years in, her hands are still stained with clay.

Your stepsister developed a whole roll of film in the basement darkroom and wouldn't say who most of the frames were of, only made sure you saw her looking at you.

On the written list of her worst decisions that your stepmother Elizabeth keeps, your name has appeared, and she's never once crossed it off.

Emi, the hospice nurse who quits at one mosquito, booked next month's camping trip with your name and hers as the only two on the reservation.