LANA HAS HERSELF DRAPED over the couch. Any other day I might think she’s just tired but, I know it’s because of Owen, her brother. I never even thought about her having a brother. I also know it’s because she’s still trying to find a way to tell me everything.
“Lana, you want me to make you some tea?”
She nods and stares at the pillow as she twirls a tassel around her finger. I think she found that at one of those summer stands that pop up all along the streets.
“Here.” I wrap her hands around her favorite cup, the one with an Eiffel tower and Paris written across it. “Can we please talk about this now?” I know I’m begging and she hates begging, but I have to know. She sighs and takes a sip of the steaming cup.