"I just wanted someone to want me," says Gideon, draping one arm along the edge of the tub. "Whatever that looked like." A muscle in her jaw tightens as she looks at the tight curve of Harrow's back, the nobbled line of her spine. She'd woken up that morning with Harrow curled into the small of her back, but the other girl had pulled away the moment that she'd woken up. "Turn the light out if you want," she says, her voice husky. "But come here? Please?"