He motions to the champagne-colored couches beside the row of dressing rooms.
When he disappears, I try really hard to keep my focus on Rose, even if my heart wants to jettison out of my body. “So, I came here to apologize, and I had this whole speech planned, but now that I’m here, I’ve kind of forgotten it. It’s like that time I played a teapot in an Alice in Wonderland play in the fifth grade. I only had two lines but still managed to forget them. You remember that? I think school plays are designed to embarrass little kids.” I cringe and shake my head. “I’m rambling. I’m sorry.”
“Just take a breath and slow down,” she coaches in her icy voice, but her softened face says differently.
Right. I regroup and meet her yellow-green eyes once more, the deadly poisonous ones I’ve avoided for many weeks. A wave of emotion floods me all at once. “I miss you,” I blurt out, tears welling. “I know you may never forgive me. I was cold and—”
“You should be cold,” she snaps, taking a few steps forward. She tentatively stops, still ten feet separating us. “What happened was fucked up.”
I shake my head. “I should be happy that people admire you,” I choke on the words. “You’re my sister, and I love you.” Tears slide down my cheeks. “And I should be so, so happy that you didn’t have to experience what I did.” But deep down, I’ve been wishing for a different outcome. That desire to place pain within my sister has festered guilt too vast to handle. It eats at me every day, tearing at all the good parts.
I haven’t been able to talk to Rose. She’ll justify my feelings, telling me that it’s okay. I don’t want it to be okay.
“Lily,” she says forcefully. “The media shouldn’t have shamed you to begin with. And since they did, they shouldn’t have treated me any differently. If our roles were reversed, I’d be so fucking furious that I’d have stormed twenty news outlets by now and wrung their necks.” She flips her hair off her shoulder. “I’m not going to lie to you, I called seven of them to bitch, and the only reason I stopped was because Connor told me that I was making the headlines worse.” She takes a strained breath. “It’s not right, and you know…I wish, more than anything, that you were treated like me and I was treated like you.”
My chin quivers, and she looks away from me so she doesn’t start crying too. I sniff loudly, trying to halt the waterworks.
“Stop,” she snaps, wiping underneath her eyes. “I’m not wearing waterproof mascara.”
I smile weakly and step closer to her so we’re only a few feet away. “I’m sorry…” My face breaks even more. “I don’t want this to tear us apart. I can’t lose you. So I’m really, really sorry for being so…”
“Human,” she tells me, tilting her head as she looks at me again. “I can’t tell you how many times I wished ill for other people. It’s completely normal, Lily.”
“But you’re my sister—”
“So? I’m certain I wished Connor would fall on his face when I was fifteen, break his nose and lose at Model UN. Envy, jealousy—I know them probably better than you do.” One step closer. We’re in hugging distance. “And guess what, little sister, you are better than me. I rarely feel guilty by those emotions, but you beat yourself up about it. So tell me, which one of us is the real cruel bitch here?”
I would never trade Rose for another sister. Not for anything. I wipe my nose with my arm. “Can I hug you?” I ask.
She scrunches her nose. “Is that what happens now?”
“Yes,” I nod.
She sighs and then places the box on the floor. “Don’t make it last too long.”
I smile and wrap my arms around my stiff, rigid sister. She pats my back like she’s giving it a golf clap.
When we part, she points to the three mannequins. “Do you think the faceless one will scare off kids?” Her eyes twinkle at the thought.
“Or just make them cry in your store.”
She grimaces now. “I wish I could have a sign outside that says: No strollers. No babies. No dogs over five pounds.”
“What about cats?”
“If you’ve taken your cat shopping, you have a serious problem,” she says and then appraises the mannequins once more. “You’re right though. The faceless one is creepy.”
I rub my tear-streaked cheeks. “You really thought I was Poppy?” I ask. Rose is my main line of communication where family matters are concerned. Our silence has pushed me out of the loop and into a dark black hole, and I’m worried now that I’m crawling out, things will be changed.