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After dinner, Karina stretched in her chair like a cat, arms over her head, letting out an exaggerated sigh of contentment.
Winter, standing by the sink, stacked the last of the plates, side-eyeing her with suspicion. The glint in Karina’s eyes was unmistakable—it spelled trouble.
"Alright," Winter said, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Time for you to head back to the guest room."
Karina didn’t even blink. "Nope."
Winter froze, turning to face her fully. "What do you mean, ‘nope’?"
"I mean," Karina said, standing and brushing imaginary crumbs from her shirt, "your bed is softer." She started walking toward Winter’s room, as casually as if she owned the place.
Winter gaped, plates clattering slightly in her hands. "You can’t just—"
But Karina was already gone, a whirlwind of audacity leaving Winter standing there, dumbfounded.
When she reached her bedroom, she found Karina sprawled across her bed, cocooned in the blanket as if she’d been living there for years.
"Night!" Karina called out cheerfully, her voice muffled by the pillow.
"Karina," Winter began, her voice low and dangerous. "Out."
Karina didn’t move, only pulled the blanket tighter around herself. "Too tired," she whined. "Plus, who kicks out their personal chef after such a Michelin-star meal? That’s just bad manners."
Winter groaned, breath out in. She reached for the blanket and gave it a firm tug, but Karina clung to it like her life depended on it, giggling uncontrollably.
"Fine!" Winter snapped, throwing up her hands. "Stay on your side. Don’t. Touch. Me."
Karina peeked out from under the blanket, her grin smug. "Deal," she said, though her tone suggested anything but.
Winter rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath, before climbing into bed. She turned her back to Karina, determined to ignore her entirely.
The room fell silent, the only sound the faint hum of the city outside. Just as Winter felt herself slipping into sleep, Karina’s voice broke through the quiet.
"Winter."
Winter’s eyes snapped open, her body tense. "What?" she hissed, turning just enough to glare over her shoulder.
Karina was propped up on one elbow, her face bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. For a moment, she looked serious, her usual teasing smirk nowhere to be found.
"How’s your mom, really?" Karina asked, her voice soft, almost hesitant.
Winter blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone. She hesitated, her usual defenses crumbling slightly. "She’s... okay," she admitted. "The doctors adjusted her meds."
