Harper shows up at my door Sunday morning with coffee and bagels and a hickey on her neck she's trying very badly to hide with a scarf.
"Nice scarf," I say, letting her in. "It's seventy degrees outside."
"Shut up." But she's smiling, and I haven't seen her smile like that in months. Maybe years. "I brought sustenance. You need to eat something before tomorrow."
"I need to know who gave you that hickey more than I need food." I take the coffee anyway, follow her to my living room. "Spill. Now."
She sits on my couch, pulls off the scarf with a dramatic sigh. The mark is right there on her collarbone, dark purple and definitely fresh.
"It's nothing. It's stupid. It's probably a terrible idea and I shouldn't even be telling you the day before you testify because you need to focus and thi
