Where’s my bikini?”Melo forced her eyelids open as her whirlwind of a sister rushed in and pulled open the curtains. She glanced at the alarm clock. Seven thirty. Four whole hours since she crawled into bed. She groaned. “Rosa, we don’t need to get ready for a couple of hours…”“Come on, Melo!” Rosa tugged at her arm. “I want to find my bikini and get my bag ready for the boat.” She planted her hands on her hips, a mutinous expression darkening her expression.Melo sighed, and sat up in bed. There was no talking to her sister in this mood. She climbed out, and shoved her feet into her slippers. “Where did you leave it?”When Rosa had returned from the shopping trip in Florence, she’d dumped her purchases in a mound in the corner of Melo’s room. Now she fell on them like a starving lioness bringing down a gazelle.“There it is!” Rosa raised a bag high. She rushed to the bed, and uploaded its contents on the warm gold cover, hands scrabbling. A hot pink, barely-there bikini dangled from her fingertips.
