REGAN.
Under it was a contact photo I absolutely had not chosen: Regan grinning at the camera with Bandit in her arms.
I stared.
Bandit was wearing the fancy green collar with the tiny bell, front paws dangling, face locked in a level of betrayal usually reserved for fallen governments. Regan looked victorious. Smug, even. Like she had personally conquered the feral kingdom and expected a parade.
Regan:We bonded.
I blinked at the screen.
Me:WHAT.
Her reply came immediately.
Regan: Don’t worry. AI generated it.
I zoomed in on the picture.
Bandit’s rage looked extremely real.
Me:Why are you in my phone as a contact?
Regan: Easy. When you passed out, I lifted your finger and unlocked it. Put in all my contact info. Also Daisy’s. Also Savannah’s. Also the coffee shop. Also the vet.
I stared at the message for a full five seconds.
Me:Girl. Do you have boundaries?
Regan:Nope.
At least she was honest.
I looked at the contact photo again. Bandit’s ears were flattened, his bell collar shining under the light like insult jewelry.
Me:He looks like he’s filing charges.
Regan:He tried. I denied the paperwork.
Me:That sounds illegal.
Regan:Welcome to the family.
I set the phone facedown on the tailgate, then immediately picked it back up when it buzzed again.
Regan:Be ready next Saturday by 4 p.m. Sending someone to pick you up.
Me:For what?
Regan:Desert black tie.
Me:What does desert black tie mean?
Regan:Wedding.
Me:Whose wedding?
Regan:Mine.
