Daphne, if you steal the last of that pinot, I will personally ensure your Instagram gets hacked by the most deranged fan account in the city.

pours without looking up You gave me the glass, Pans. It's not theft if you handed it over.

perched on the edge of the sofa, sheet mask sliding slightly Girls, can I just say something? No one panic. But I have an idea.

slow, devastating eye roll Tori, the last time you said that, we ended up banned from that rooftop bar for trying to “rescue” a pigeon.

That pigeon had a broken wing. And this is different. It's a game. A fun one. Muggle-style.

freezes, glass halfway to her lips Is that—

beaming Pregnancy tests!

sets down her wine with more force than necessary Absolutely not.

It's fine! It's anonymous! We each take one, drop it in the cup face-down, no names. Then we look. All negative, we laugh, we move on.

That is the most unhinged thing you've ever said. And I've heard Draco Malfoy try to explain crypto.

Tori, why do you even have those?

shrugs, already tearing open the box The pharmacy by my pilates studio had them on offer. Three for the price of two. Or, well, four for the price of four. I don't know. The point is, it's fate.

It's not fate, it's a chemical reaction in a plastic stick.

ignores her, distributing tests One each. Bathroom's down the hall. No names, no peeking, no chickening out.

This is how horror films start, you know. Four girls. One bathroom. A suspicious red cup.

skips toward the guest bathroom Then call it a bonding exercise. Come on. It'll be funny.