❛ ARE YOU READY, LISTENERS? ❜ | Kate Blackwell is a rich, beautiful, good girl with friends, flings, and a glamorous future in front of her. Karma Kane, on the other hand, is a Nancy Drew-wannabe who only exists in the 1's and 0's of the internet. N...
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— THE SISTER.
KATE COULDN'T REMEMBER WHEN SHE STOPPED BEING A 'KATIE' — but it felt like aeons ago, back when she went to bed before the sun and didn't know how to multiply past the number five. She had been grey, grim Kate for years, at least when she wasn't playing pretend as someone else completely. And it felt weird to her that so many people kept forgetting that she was almost an adult and definitely not a sniveling little snot-faced kid named Katie anymore.
At the very least, she expected her sister to know better. But considering they were basically strangers nowadays, maybe her expectations were too unrealistic.
Mariana Pruitt wasn't a Blackwell on paper anymore. And three and a half years ago, she'd sworn to never associate with any Blackwell label again, which Kate assumed also meant her (and considering they only interacted through Instagram likes and Christmas texts, that seemed right). But thirty-six hours after the announcement of Killian Blackwell's death, Mariana Pruitt showed up on the mansion front steps with two bags and a beaming smile, leaving Kate no choice but to let her in.
She definitely didn't look like a Blackwell anymore, Kate observed dully. Nothing like the perfectly poised eldest daughter always dressed in expensive creams and maroons, smizing behind her perfect parents. This Mariana draped herself across the uncomfortable velvet furniture in one of the many Blackwell 'entertainment rooms' (which hadn't been used until that very day) and dangled her mismatched-socked toes off the back. This Mariana wore a huge smile pretty much all the time, to the point where it kind of scared Kate, and sweaters with little pink crabs all over it, and seemed to be absolutely oblivious to what was going on.
Not oblivious, actually. Just unsympathetic.
"Y'know, Katie—"
"—Kate."
Mariana cocked her head, blinking owlishly at her sister. "Huh?"
Kate squirmed under her gaze. "I...it's just Kate," she said lamely. "No one calls me Katie anymore."
"Oh." Mariana considered that for a second, before shrugging and widening her smile once again. "Sure. Kate. I was just asking if you heard what I said."
Honestly, Kate hadn't been listening to her sister for pretty much the entire time she'd been there. After Mariana showed up, offering very little condolences and promptly remarking on how moorish the Blackwell Mansion was — which, yeah, that happens when the only good in a family dies or leaves and all that's left is a sociopathic dickwad of a father, who then kicks the bucket TOO — Kate felt herself fading into her mind, and out of what was actually happening. Her body still functioned, but it was on autopilot so she could relax a little.
