Emma

Olivia had on a funny face as she applied mascara to her lashes. She spun around to look at me. “Are you certain my makeup looks good? I just want to wipe it all off…” She made a wiping gesture with her hands. “And start all over again.”

I grabbed her hand. “No, no wiping. I promise you look good,” I assured her. We were in her bathroom getting ready. I was curling my hair while she was putting on makeup.

Suddenly, she swirled around to look at me. “Are you okay, Emma? Like, really?”

I frowned. “Yeah, of course, I’m good.”

She stared at me for long, like...