“What do you want?” Lily asks, fists clenched, standing in a far corner of the room. “Nothing from you,” Warner says to her. “I’m here to pick up Juliette. I have no wish to disturb your . . . slumber party,” he says, looking around at the pillows and blankets piled on the living room floor. Adam goes rigid with alarm. “What are you talking about? She’s not going anywhere with you.” Warner scratches the back of his head. “Do you never get exhausted being so wholly unbearable? You have as much charisma as the rotting innards of unidentified roadkill.”
