"Ty's never been good at sharing." Or at least Sarah had been better at playing the field than her twin was, flitting between Gaël, other men, the occasional girl - but it did get lonely sometimes, and she wondered if she should have tried the monogamy thing instead. "If Oliver wanted to try my brother out, that's the price, unfortunately. He's allergic to casual. Sometimes I think he was supposed to be the girl."

Gaël, though, had been convinced happiness wasn't for him for nine years now, and it didn't matter what his father said, what his sister said, what Sarah said. That feeling had wormed itself in so deep it was a certainty. She waited until he was sitting next to her, though, before she leaned her head against his. It was only possible when they were sitting down. "I am Snow White to your Prince Charming, just like when Papa cast us when we were eleven and ten," she said, and paused for a moment.

"Your turn," she said, tipping her head a bit to look at him. "How bad is it, love?"