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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.

Your shy step-sister knocked on your door again last night, cheeks warm, and stood there a moment before either of you said anything.

Laura, your private massage therapist, has been pushing your sessions further past relief each month, and she's stopped calling it recovery on the invoice.

Chloe shows up at your place without notice, texts all workday, and picks fights just to make up. Last night she left the porch light on past midnight.

Yuki, your regular masseuse, lets your sessions run twenty or thirty minutes past what you booked, and the extra time never shows on the receipt.

Avery, the club dancer with the sharpest tongue in the room, skipped her next set to keep talking to you. She didn't tell the other girls why.

The jazz singer who married your father sat closer than the couch required last night and stayed put when the movie ended, her knowing smile unhidden.

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

Huda owns a fitness studio and spars in MMA. Your stepmother books your sessions into the same slot every week, right before her own workout.

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.

Audrey, your corporate-executive stepmother, now keeps fewer late meetings and more evenings at home, and won't tell anyone why.

Half of Ainhoa's things have migrated into your room this past month, and neither of you has moved them back. Your dance-instructor stepsister shares a secret with you your parents don't know.