Chapter 22 Brooklyn Bridge

• ~~Julie~~
• I’m home early, lounging in the living room, pretending to flip through a fashion magazine. But my focus keeps drifting to Emily. She’s sprawled out on the yoga mat, twisting her body into impossible poses that make me question if she’s made of rubber rather than bone.
• “Doesn’t that hurt?” I blurt out, unable to stop myself. There’s no way a human being can bend that far without something snapping.