Several minutes pass in which we say nothing. Then Sam, out of nowhere, says, "We`re friends, right?"
It`s another of her nesting doll questions. To answer one is to answer them all.
"Of course," I say.
"Good," she says. "That`s good, Quinn. I mean, imagine what it would be like if we weren`t."
I try to read the expression on her face. It`s a blank. A void.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I know so much about you now," she says quietly. "The things you`re capable of. The things you`ve actually done. If we weren`t friends, there`s so much I could use against you."
My hands tense within hers. I fight the urge to pull them away and run from the room, fingernails half-painted and streaked with black. Instead, i gaze at her sweetly, hoping she`ll think it`s sincere.
"That`ll never happen," I say. "We`re friends for life."
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