She stared at me when she said it, but when I pressed my hand over her heart, she winced like it hurt.
“Remember what I stitched into your mattress?” I said as her heart spoke into my palm.
She nodded.
“I wish I could stitch it right here.”
Rosalee tickled Swan under her chin and pretended to think about it. “Only if the thread is red.”
I lowered my hand and rested my head on her shoulder, gingerly, waiting for her to shove me away.
She didn’t.