“Scared?” Gretchen asked, brow furrowing as her confusion collided with her anger and mixed together like a toxic potion that did nothing to calm her down. What right did Frida have to be scared of letters that weren’t even addressed to her?

Backed up against the mirror Frida did indeed look as scared as she claimed to have been but Gretchen couldn’t bring herself to care. She wanted to scream and throw things – ideally at her sister but for now she still needed answers.

“Scared of what? Wait, never mind! I don’t care. Where are they now? Fetch them for me Frida, I need to read them now.”

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Bee is tremendous, isn't she?