"Another year, another two kids in the ground." Gloss raises his glass to mockingly toast the sky, and Cashmere is too tired to scold him. It's not like anyone will hear them, anyway.
"At least we're still alive," she reminds him. "And we have hot chocolate. We're pretty lucky."
"You always steal my drink."
"Oh, like you're so great yourself," she teases, swiping the mug from his fingertips and draining it.
He flicks her forehead but cracks a smile, the first she's seen from him all day. "I guess there could be worse sisters to be stuck in hell with."