“Hey,” Krew gripes, spinning my chair to face his. “Stop stressing over how we choose to spend our money. If I want to buy you a goddamn pony, I will.” He narrows his eyes, begging me to argue. “Will you put a sparkly cone on its head so I can call it a unicorn?” I ask him, my face a complete mask of seriousness. He snorts, shaking his head at me.
