Bea squints at us like we've all collectively lost our minds. "Where are we going?"
Yara groans dramatically, waving a weak hand in the air. "Oh, I don't know, Bea. Anywhere but this death trap of an apartment. We obviously can't stay here anymore."
Bea crosses her arms, frowning. "Right. And we would move, so why am I hearing things like the road?" She huffs. "We've moved before, so we can do it again."
Huh? The girls told me something else.
"Moved before?" I look between them, baffled. "I thought you two said you've been holed up inside for a year and a half."
Yara nods. "Yeah."
Bea shrugs. "We never said it was this house. We've moved twice."
My brain takes a second to process that. "Wait. Hold on. You mean you've switched hideouts twice?"