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having half-open eyes, I seemed to have discolored skin, as if I was green.
    “The lamp muddied your light. Do you want to take another one?” Angelina asked.
    I shook my head.
    “Are you going to send your friend the first picture or the second one?” Angelina asked.
    “The first one,” I said. There was no way I was sending Todd a picture of me looking sleepy, green, and ugly. And then, right as I was sending it, my parents came home.
    “Unbelievable!” my mother said as she hurried in the front door. “How could they let you board an earlier flight and not notify me?”
    Angelina shrugged. “They just did.”
    “Luckily, all our complaining got us a free voucher for another ticket, so you can come visit us again,” my dad said.
    “So cool!” Angelina said. Then she raced over and hugged him.
    “Angelina,” he said as he returned her hug for, like, forty-seven seconds. “Forget the rocky start. We are so excited to have you as a guest. Make yourself at home.
Mi casa es su casa
. Right, Lane?”
    I was surprised at this statement for several reasons. First, when did he become the kind of person who returned hugs for forty-seven seconds? Second, when did
we
as a family decide any of these things? And lastly, when did my dad start speaking Spanish? I’d never even heard him say
adios
or
amigo. Mi casa es su casa?
When my dad wanted to say crazy things in a foreign language he usually chose German.
Bis bald! Danke! Mach’s gut
.
    “Yes,” my mother encouraged her. “He’s right. For the next month I have two daughters.” I watched as she sappily scooped a beaming Angelina into her arms.
    My stomach flipped. Were my parents losing their minds? I understood that we needed to make Angelina comfortable. But I didn’t think we needed to convince her she was my sister. Not to be rude. But Angelina Mint Taravel didn’t exactly look like sister material. She was more like a special project. Maybe a broken doll you find in the street and you take it home and fix it up and then give it to somebody else. The doll gets a second life. And you feel really good about yourself for taking pity on a broken doll in the first place.
    “You guys are the best,” Angelina said. And then she walked over and wrapped her arms around me and huggedme. And I hugged her back a little, but I also held back. Because in addition to having boundaries, I also wasn’t sappy.
    “I’ve never had a sister!” Angelina said.
    Hearing this made everything feel extra dreadful.
    “Aren’t you going to say anything to Angelina?” my mom asked.
    It felt as if she wanted me to declare that I considered Angelina my sister. No way. Not happening. So I said something else. I asked a practical question.
    “Where are all your suitcases?” Because I didn’t see anything besides a duffel bag. Had she come with only a duffel bag? Didn’t she own cute clothes? Where were they? Not on her.
    “I only brought what I need,” Angelina said.
    All three of us stared at her bag. That contained everything she needed for a month?
    “I’m sure if you forgot something, Lane can lend you whatever you need,” my mom said.
    This was not ideal news.
    “I am so tired,” Angelina said. “I think I’m ready for bed.”
    “Of course!” my mother agreed. “Lane will show you to her room.”
    Suddenly, I felt very burdened. Angelina Mint Taravel was my sole responsibility. Like an exchange student. Or a high-needs dog. She’d been deposited into my care, and now it was my job to look after her and show her EVERYTHING.
    As I led Angelina down the hallway to my room, she began to whistle. And something about the pitch of that sound made the hair on my arms stand up. It was as if I knew on some level what was coming. As if I understood that
my life
was no longer going to be
my life
.

6
    I sort of assumed that Angelina would just sleep in her dog shirt. I figured that she was traveling in stuff that was almost pajamas anyway. But that wasn’t what