row. Lex and I share a glance as she snags a bottle of liquor from the cabinet over the fridge. “Wait,” Lex says, frowning. “Is that…?” She pops the cork. “Yep. Your brother brought it to Family Dinner after the mutiny.” Pouring some into each glass, she raises her own. “To the victor go the spoils.” Grabbing for mine, I give it a sniff before raising it, correcting, “To create is to reign.” She laughs a low, scratchy laugh. “Oh, blondie. Same fucking thing.”
