Despite the shocking news that Emma whispers in my ear, I manage to keep my reaction to a minimum of one eyebrow quirking up.
"Dead?" I repeat as if her words weren't crystal clear. My mind flashes to a razor-sharp smile that had thoroughly enjoyed watching my hand get turned into a pin cushion. I don't feel bad at all.
She nods, settling her head on the bed pillow across from me. We are both in matching nightgowns, largely at my insistence, and a few cake crumbs surround her little mouth. It had been a fun attempt at a sleepover, a rare fixture from my youth I'd thoroughly enjoyed. But much in the same way I always had to say goodbye to my friends in the morning and head home to my less idyllic reality, this sleepover has similarly fallen apart at the seams.
"I can't say it's a shame, but... it was certainly unexpected," I point out. "You've been holding this in all evening haven't you?"
