"Yeah, you'll really be taking one for the team there," she winked and then she shouldered her bag to carry inside.
Once she stepped through the door, she dropped her bag on the floor and headed towards the voices she could hear. It certainly didn't sound like the fifty-year-old caretaker, nor did it sound like her family. She could hear laughing. No one in her family laughed, surely, unless it was to some racist joke at a soiree. And even then it tended to be faked.
Jess motioned Jesse to follow her and she peered around the corner to find the last person in the world she ever expected to see making sandwiches.
"Holy shit-" Jess breathed, causing Joey to look up in alarm. "Oh holy shit."
Joey blinked, looked his baby sister up and down to take in the fact that she was clad almost entirely in leather, and then he blinked again. "Jessica?"
It really was her brother. The only one she gave a shit about. She had thought he was dead, but he was here in front of her, stilling holding a butter knife with mayo dripping off the end. "Josephine!" Jess hissed breathlessly, and then she laughed herself at her brother with such energy she knocked him off his feet, causing the butter knife to clatter across the kitchen. And there on the floor, she hugged him with a death grip. "Jesus fuck, I thought you were dead!"