Tess smiled inwardly. She wanted to believe it, but silly indulgences still felt like a lot to ask for, when she ran a printshop that was treading water and sisters who were occasionally liable to fall off the deep end in one way or another. But Lorelei Owens was running her own business now, too, and did not seem to have much family besides her sister, so – she understood. And she was probably right, too.

“I’m always hanging a single thread away from madness, I think,” she admitted wryly. Or – a single print job away. One bad day. One frustrating hour. “What do you like to do?” she asked instead, genuinely curious. “To get away for a while?”

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