“It would seem I have you to thank for that.”

“Me?"

Sam smiled. "Rachael actually apologized to me for not being a better big sister growing up. Do you know how many times she's ever apologized for that?"

I blinked. "Uh, not many, I'd imagine."

"Zero," Sam corrected, “at least until today. I asked her about that, and she said talking to you made her realize that apologizing was the least she could do to make it up to me."

“I... uh... didn't realize I had that much of an impact." I shrugged.

“At the same time, she's not thrilled about my situation consuming her precious time to not only visit me, but to also spend an evening using her leverage with Dad to get him to admit he's in the wrong. And for that, she said I'm going to owe her big time.”

“Umm, okay..."

Sam smiled.

“Do you know how many times she's ever told me I owe her one?"

“Zero?”

“Good guess."

I gave her a curious look. "So what does all that mean?"

Sam gave me a hopeful smile.

“I think it means she might start making an effort to actually BE my big sister.”

Everything happened really fast after that. It was Late that night when

Sam's dad called my house and had a brief conversation with his daughter. The very next afternoon, instead of lounging around my swimming pool with the rest of the BTC for one of our regular Friday afternoon hangout sessions, Sam was in her room packing up. Her books and the majority of her school clothes she was leaving behind for the expected school nights she'd be spending with me, but her most precious personal mementos she was taking back where they belonged: in her bedroom. In her home. And all too eager to return, as soon as she was done packing, she came to give me a quick kiss goodbye, told the rest of the girls she'd see them at school on Monday, and then left my house as suddenly as she'd arrived nearly five weeks earlier.

In the evening, I found myself standing in front of the toilet brushing my teeth. Yes, you read that right. See, my bathroom mirror ran the length of the countertop and across the wall above the toilet, and

Belle was brushing her teeth right next to me over the sink. She tended to let more foamy toothpaste dribble out of her mouth than I did

(especially whenever she did that gag-reflex-probing thing as

“training").

We moved around each other with practiced ease, the same way we moved around each other in her kitchen while making dinners together. When I was done and needed to rinse my mouth, she wordlessly stepped to the side while continuing to rub on her facewash. When I was done rinsing,

I wordlessly stepped aside while she cleaned off her face.

When we were both done, we climbed into bed together and she lay her head on my chest while cuddling herself around me in a firm hug. But as pleasant and familiar as the position felt, I couldn't help but sigh a little mournfully.

“Missing Sam a bit?" Belle asked softly.