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Julie always had a pretty weird relationship with fashion and clothes.

On the one hand, even as a kid and later a teenager, she was genuinely grateful for school dress codes—for the rules that told her exactly what to wear, for the matching gym outfits she put on alongside all the other girls (the only thing that could really set her apart was her skill).

Plenty of her peers would dramatically complain, collecting warning after warning from teachers for breaking the rules, going on about how their individuality was being crushed. Julie couldn’t care less. Most of the time, she liked blending into the grey crowd. Plain, unremarkable clothes worked like armor against unwanted attention.

On the other hand, she was fascinated by fashion and borderline addicted to online shopping. For a long time, though, it was one of those secret, slightly embarrassing joys in her life. So she’d scroll through websites and add to cart clothes that caught her eye late at night, when she couldn’t sleep. But once she officially became a private detective, she suddenly had a perfectly believable excuse for why her closet was bursting at the seams—even though most of the clothes still had the tags on: undercover work.

Because obviously, if she wanted to do her job properly, she needed tools, right?

So spending several hours a week buying clothes became completely justifiable. So did blowing a pretty big chunk of her income on them. After all, maybe one of her alter egos would need that beautiful designer dress—despite the fact that as the real Julie, she’d never wear it. Maybe another alter ego had a thing for leather jackets, so it was better to have at least five to choose from—despite the fact that real Julie didn’t actually wear leather jackets at all. Maybe one day she’d need a whole wardrobe of heels that were meant to look gorgeous and be absolutely useless in practice. Or maybe she’d finally use one of those handbags that cost more than her rent.

Everything could come in handy someday, right? Who knew what role she’d end up playing.

It didn’t really matter that on any normal day—when she was just Julie Kovalenko, not some weird persona created for a few hours or days—she rotated the same ten outfits over and over. A few elegant, simple suits, with shirts. That’s just what she felt best in. Just like years ago, when school-approved outfits had been her armor, now her suits were both armor and fortress. When she slipped a blazer over her shoulders in the morning, it felt like putting on a bulletproof vest—one that didn’t just keep her safe, but made her confident. And when you felt safe, you could make tough, hard decisions.

Also, let’s be real—women in suits were hot. A universal truth everyone knew.

So yeah. She felt good in them.

There was no such thing as free time in Julie’s life. There was work, sleep, and then work again. Shirts, suits, pajamas. That was it.

Even when she occasionally saw her sister and her niece, or even more occasionally (let’s be honest—almost never) went on a date, she still looked like she could head straight back to the office at any moment. Usually, when Megan teased her too much about it, Julie would throw in the one pair of jeans she’d owned for years and had gotten comfortable enough in to feel almost as good as she did in a suit—though she always paired them with a button-up, feeling way too exposed in just a T-shirt.

Still, sometimes she wondered… maybe she should open herself up to more. Maybe figure out what else she felt good in—and why.

***

Looking back, Julie felt like it had all really started with two identical knit hoodies. Well, almost identical—just different colors.

Blue and lavender.

The fake “Emily” she was supposed to play, and the real Emily who showed up uninvited.

It took Julie only a few hours with Charles to build a perfectly clear picture of his daughter in her head. If he wasn’t sharing some (painfully boring) random facts, he was talking about her. So Julie very quickly knew who she’d have to pretend to be, and honestly, she didn’t think it would be the hardest role of her life. Emily, as described by Charles, was basically a mini version of him—though he didn’t seem to realize it. And for some reason, Julie felt like she wouldn’t have to change her own personality all that much. She’d just have to be… a bit nicer than usual.

Slipping into the role of Emily came easily. Julie didn’t have to adjust her mannerisms much, and choosing clothes took surprisingly little time. She just stuck to three rules: not expensive, casual, comfortable. She picked things she genuinely liked and thought were cute.

And being Emily turned out to be not just easy—but kind of nice.

It was strange, walking around during work hours without the protective layer of her blazer-armor. Usually, when she ditched them, she jumped into a role that was the complete opposite of who she really was. Now, as a slightly upgraded version of herself with a fake name and a friendlier personality, soft sweaters and loose pastel shirts made her feel weird—but also comfortable.

Maybe that mix of weirdness and comfort was amplified by the way Didi kept looking at her—letting her gaze linger, slowly scanning Julie’s body every time they ran into each other.

For some reason, Julie wanted to stay smiling, friendly Emily for as long as possible—Emily with the boring job and the loving dad she adored visiting.

She quickly started wondering what the real Emily was actually like.

And to her own horror (and excitement), she found out pretty fast.

(The horror belonged to Detective Julie, because the appearance of the real Emily could seriously mess up the case. The excitement belonged to just Julie—who, despite how much she denied it, was growing  curious and wanted to know more about Charles and his family.)

It felt like a small triumph when an angry Emily stood in front of her, wearing almost the exact same outfit. The sweater differed only in color, the shoes were identical, and if you didn’t look too closely, the jeans could pass as the same too.

Julie had completely nailed the whole Emily Nieuwendyk act. Especially considering that before coming to Pacific View, she’d spent exactly only three minutes thinking about what Emily would wear.
(She ended up wearing what she herself wanted.)

There was only one explanation: she was really damn good at her job.

(In the spirit of full honesty: Julie already felt great about her outfit choice before Emily even showed up. All thanks to a few seconds, when Didi passed her in the lobby, said nothing, smiled in that usual charming way, reached out, and casually adjusted Julie’s hood. For some reason, that gesture made Julie’s heart jump, and she couldn’t stop smiling all the way to Charles’s room.)

The real Emily didn’t disappoint Julie—professionally or personally. She turned out to be surprisingly helpful to Charles and kept Julie interested and entertained when it became clear she wasn’t just his sweet, lovely daughter, but also someone who could growl and bite.

As Charles tried to explain the whole situation in a calm, gentle voice—casually admitting that yes, over the past few days he had apparently become a secret agent—Emily stood there with her arms crossed, staring at Julie like she wanted to set her on fire. Julie stared right back.

When Charles finally went quiet, Emily kept looking at her for a moment longer, let her gaze drift over every part of Julie’s outfit once more, and then—despite her still-intimidating expression—the corners of her mouth twitched into a smile.

“This is  really fucking weird.”

“No shit,” Julie sighed.

“You’re weird.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m not arguing with that.”

They locked eyes for a few more seconds, then burst out laughing at the exact same moment. Charles looked between them, visibly confused, clearly having no idea what to expect.

Emily turned to him and finally launched into a flood of questions.

Julie couldn’t really explain why, but she already felt a certain fondness for her. A sense that if she let herself, she could actually get along with her. And once again, for some reason, she had the feeling that when the case was finally over, forgetting about Pacific View would be harder than she expected.

(Several months later, Didi asked her outright whether the identical outfits the day Emily first showed up at PV had been intentional. She seemed genuinely surprised when Julie firmly denied it. Clearly, even though Didi had figured out fairly quickly that Julie was up to something, she hadn’t put together then that Emily wasn’t actually related to her. For some reason, that realization filled Julie with a quiet sense of triumph.)

***

Honestly, Julie didn’t even notice when the changes started creeping in.

Especially since once the Pacific case was over, everything seemed to fall back into its old rhythm. Simple suits made up about ninety percent of her daily outfits again, and the soft sweaters and shirts disappeared back into the depths of her closet.

The thing was—now, by the end of the week, or after ten-hour workdays, Julie started getting a little fed up with her perfectly ironed shirts and tight suit sets. Suddenly, she found herself craving comfort.

The changes probably came in small steps, slowly gaining momentum over time.

Maybe it started on one of those days when she felt a little off and, wanting to make life just slightly nicer for herself, she ditched the suit and showed up to work in that hoodie sweater. Maybe it began when she hired Charles full-time. Or when Emily started dropping by the office more often. Or when Megan and Emily shyly began inviting her out for drinks or a quick bite. Or maybe it didn’t really start until Julie let her mother back into her life—and visibly softened in everyone’s eyes (that damned Thanksgiving dinner..).

Or maybe the changes had been happening nonstop ever since Pacific, and Julie had just never realized it.

Either way, there was no denying that Julie was softening. Not just in her behavior, but in how she looked. She spent more time outside of work—and more often found herself reaching into her closet for something other than a suit.

She probably wouldn’t have cared as much if she were the only one who noticed.
But everyone else noticed too.

The upside was that people were still at least a little bit afraid of her.

Which is why she mostly survived without hearing any comments when she showed up to girlsnights out with Megan and Em wearing something suspiciously similar to what Emily had on. Usually, the only difference was the color.

Sweaters, shirts, T-shirts, pants, shoes—even something as dumb as a scarf or socks.

Almost every time, they were wearing something nearly identical. Or at least close enough to make other people laugh.

Julie quickly made peace with Megan’s and Emily’s quiet giggling. Most of the time she just snorted in mild disapproval, brushed it off, and pretended nothing had happened. Even when Vanessa, Calbert, and Charles started throwing her knowing looks as they witnessed her increasingly obvious transformation into Emily 2.0, Julie kept acting like everything was perfectly normal.

As long as no one said anything out loud, there was no problem.

Then Julie made a very big mistake.
(Also: the best decision of her life.)
She started dating Didi.

Didi—who showed everyone else that Julie wasn’t actually that scary, and that sometimes you could even joke about her.

All it took was one situation.

Julie showed up at Pacific View to pick Charles up from his game night with Calbert. She had no idea Emily would be there too. She was wearing a shirt that differed from Emily’s only by being a slightly deeper shade of blue.

“Oh, hey, Emily!” Didi called out toward Julie, flashing a mischievous grin that made Julie stop dead in her tracks and look her over carefully.

“What?” Julie muttered, narrowing her eyes suspiciously as Didi’s smile widened even more and the other three looked between them with growing interest.

“Oh! Sorry!” Didi pressed a hand dramatically to her chest, slowly shifting her gaze between Julie and Emily. “I still mix you two up sometimes—it’s because you look so alike…”

Emily burst out laughing, the two men joining in a second later, while Didi shot Julie a playful wink. Julie probably should’ve wanted to strangle her—but instead, she couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

From that moment on, every time Julie showed up looking even remotely similar to Emily, it came with teasing commentary from everyone.

(Calling Julie “Emily” became one of Didi’s favorite jokes for a while. That was, until one night, in the middle of some late-night banter, Julie finally snapped. She grabbed Didi’s face, squishing her cheeks between her hands, and growled, “Call me that one more time and you’re sleeping on the couch.”
Naturally, Didi accepted the challenge. With a devilish grin, she leaned in like she was about to kiss her and whispered, “Emily.”
True to her word, Julie physically kicked her out of bed and made her go sleep in the living room. About twenty minutes later, she gave up, dragged the blanket with her, and joined her on the couch—pinning Didi down with her whole body, clinging to her like Velcro, and throwing the blanket over them.
Neither of them slept that night.
But Didi stopped calling her “Emily.”
At least when they were naked.)

***

The jokes at Julie’s expense ended the moment Emily realized she could actually use the fact that Julie was—consciously or not—basically her copy.

Julie had already let Charles and Megan clock out for the day. The two of them had been wandering around the office for a few minutes now, chatting cheerfully and gathering their things, while Julie was still hunched over her laptop, trying to squeeze a little more productivity out of the day.

To everyone’s surprise, Emily suddenly appeared without warning. She walked straight over to Julie, barely acknowledging the other two, hopped energetically onto Julie’s desk, settled on the edge, and shoved her phone right under Julie’s nose.

“You have this?” she asked bluntly, without any greeting.

For appearances’ sake, Julie raised an eyebrow and pulled a slight grimace, pretending she was more annoyed than genuinely curious. She glanced briefly at the photo on the screen—a dress that had been hanging in her closet for several days now, still with the tag attached.

“That’s a nice dress,” she commented casually, already turning her attention back to her laptop.

“Oh, I know you like it—that’s not what I asked,” Emily said. “I asked if you have it.”

Julie just hummed noncommittally, fighting back a smile as Emily started muttering under her breath about how impossible she was.

“Okay. Joel and I are going out this weekend, and I need something really extra. I tried this dress on today and it’s amazing, but I really don’t feel like spending that much money on something I’ll probably wear once…” she admitted reluctantly. “And I figured—I know a shopping addict with suspiciously similar taste and size to mine, so… yeah.”

Julie sighed loudly and dramatically, closed her laptop, and slowly stood up. When Emily straightened up, eyes shining with excitement, Julie finally dropped the act and grinned at her.

“I literally picked up the package three days ago,” she said. “So yeah—you’re lucky.”

Emily grinned so wide she showed all her teeth.

Turns out, this whole being nice to people thing wasn’t nearly as hard as it sounded.

So when they were getting ready to leave and Megan looked at them with sad puppy-dog eyes, Julie laughed, shook her head, and waved her along.

If she was already letting Emily raid her closet, she might as well extend the same courtesy to her other friend.

***

Honestly, when Julie and Didi first started dating, Julie was genuinely afraid Didi would laugh at her walk-in closet. So the first time she invited her over and showed her around the apartment, she hesitantly led her into that room—explaining that it used to be a separate guestroom, which she’d converted into a walk-in closet with direct access from the bedroom.

While Julie shifted nervously from foot to foot, rambling through the explanation, Didi stood there with her mouth slightly open. To Julie’s surprise, she realized Didi’s eyes were wide with undisguised admiration.

So, still quietly and uncertainly, Julie admitted that it was her favorite place in the apartment.

Didi just smiled at her and kissed her on the forehead.

And Julie stopped worrying about being laughed at.

The soft scrape of a door woke Julie from an unplanned nap. She stretched beneath a fluffy pink-and-yellow blanket (blatantly stolen from Didi’s apartment), wildly out of place in her grey, minimalist bedroom, and glanced toward the closet entrance.

Light and faint scent of Didi’s shampoo spilled into the bedroom through the half-open door.

Julie stretched again and slipped out of bed, wrapping the blanket around her bare shoulders. Still half-asleep, she wandered into the closet and found Didi standing in the middle of it, hair still damp, wearing nothing but a loose flannel shirt.

(Yes—somewhere between the suits and the Gucci dresses in Julie’s closet, there were flannel shirts.)

“Sometimes I wonder why you even steal my clothes,” Didi said, sensing Julie beside her. She smiled softly, staring at the long row of shirts organized by color. “You could go a year without doing laundry and still have something to wear.”

“Maybe,” Julie replied, leaning against her back and wrapping her arms around her waist. “But if you want me to stop stealing your stuff, you’ll have to make mine ten times softer and make them permanently smell like you. Then maybe I’ll stop.”

“Julie, baby—you can steal anything you want from me,” Didi laughed quietly, placing her hand over Julie’s.

“Good,” Julie murmured contentedly, pressing her face deeper between her shoulder blades.

“You know, I never thought I’d fall in love with a hoarder,” Didi added. “Life really is full of surprises.”

“Oh, excuse me!” Julie scoffed, pulling back so she could turn Didi around. “I am not—wait.”

She froze when she caught the playful grin and the amusement sparkling in Didi’s eyes. That’s when the meaning finally hit her.

“You love me?” Julie asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes and tightening her fists in the flannel fabric.

“Yup,” Didi said simply, grinning even wider.

“And that’s how you tell me?!”

“Yup.” Didi leaned in and gave her a quick, sweet peck on the lips.

“I love you too,” Julie whispered a moment later, her voice cracking.

Didi kissed her again, pulling her closer, slipping her hands under the blanket still wrapped around Julie.

“I know,” she said, pressing her face against Julie’s cheek so Julie could feel her smile against her skin. “I heard you practicing how to say it in here last night.”

Julie groaned loudly in embarrassment—she should’ve known. But a split second later, she decided it didn’t matter. What mattered was that the words had been said.

So she laughed at herself and hugged Didi tighter.

***

As usual, Julie had to wait nearly fifteen minutes, leaning against the wall by the restaurant entrance, before Emily finally decided to show up.

“Sorry, sorry—parking nightmare!” Emily said immediately, throwing both hands up in surrender as she jogged over.

Julie just looked at her, unimpressed, raising an eyebrow.

“Seriously, Em? Again?” She rubbed her temple with her fingers and sighed in defeat. “Amazing. We’re about to meet Charles’s next girlfriend looking like old twins.”

“Oh…” Emily said, glancing down at her outfit and then back at Julie. “That’s actually funny, because I almost never wear this shirt. I picked it on purpose—I figured there was no way we’d end up with the same idea.”

Julie let out a quiet, nervous snort of laughter and adjusted the way her shirt sat on her shoulders. The only reason she’d worn this one was the relatively high collar—she was desperate to hide the fresh purple mark darkening on her neck.

“Besides, it’s not that bad,” Emily continued cheerfully, sounding like she was desperately trying to convince both of them. “We don’t look identical.”

Julie tilted her head skeptically.

“Your shirt is white with blue stripes, mine’s white with green ones. And your jeans are looser than—okay. You know what? You’re right,” Emily cut herself off and laughed loudly. “But maybe it’s actually good that we look similar today. I mean, his new lady wanted to meet his girls.”

“Fair point,” Julie said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small notebook. “Alright. Quick briefing.”

“Hit me.” Emily stepped closer, leaning against the wall too and peeking over Julie’s shoulder at the notes.

“Shelly. Seventy-two years old. Spent most of her life as an elementary art teacher. Now she makes erotic sculptures and proudly sells them on Etsy. Her Facebook is mostly garden photos and Paulo Coelho quotes. And unfortunately, I know she has a very large, very wrinkly dolphin tattoo on her lower back.” Julie paused. “Oh—and her only daughter is, get this, a holistic doctor.”

“Fantastic,” Emily sighed, already sounding defeated. “So another one from the ‘where the hell did Dad even find her’ collection?”

“Looks that way,” Julie said, slipping the notebook back into her bag.

“Julie… that’s the fourth one in two months,” Emily added quietly, lowering her head. “Dad is really trying to find another Mona…”

“Yeah. That’s true.”

“Do you think he’s that unhappy?”

“I think the last breakup he ever really processed was sometime in the late ’60s,” Julie said, lightly bumping Emily’s chin with her fingers in a supportive gesture. “So he has no idea what to do with himself now. And honestly? I think he actually enjoys spending time with most of these women, so—before you ask—I don’t think we need to worry about him.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“You know what else I think?”

“Yeah?”

“That we should start getting more fun out of these moments. Like… really lean into the joke.”

“What do you mean?”

Julie smiled darkly and stepped in front of Emily, studying her for a moment. Emily didn’t protest when Julie started messing with her hair, pinning part of it back, or when she pulled her own lipstick from her bag and swiped it across Emily’s lips.

Emily quickly caught on and rolled up her sleeves too, making herself look even more like Julie.

“I kinda feel like Dad might get emotional,” Emily said, amused, when Julie snapped a photo to document her work.

“Yeah, well. Let him enjoy it while he can, because we’re never doing this again,” Julie replied, zooming in on the picture and staring at it with a mix of horror and fondness. “This is deeply creepy.”

Yes—Charles got emotional.
No—neither of them liked Shelly enough to happily welcome her into the family.

Like after every previous meeting, less than two hours later they ended up in Emily’s car, filled with the unmistakable smell of McDonald’s.
(Charles always chose fancy restaurants with tiny portions, and they always left just as hungry as they’d arrived.)

“So…” Julie started, taking a massive bite of her cheeseburger. In her other hand, she held a pen hovering over the notebook on her knee. “What rating are we giving Shelly?”

“Two out of five,” Emily said immediately, sipping Fanta through a straw.

“Wow. Harsh.”

“Julie, the woman thought we were biological sisters. That Dad didn’t know about you for thirty years.”

“That was kind of funny.”

“It just proved she barely listened to anything he said.”

“Yeah, but it was still funny,” Julie grinned, taking another bite and speaking with her mouth full. “And considering how many first dates your dad goes on, he might skip details to save time. Maybe that’s how I became the secret bastard daughter.”

“Still. Two out of five.”

Julie dutifully wrote down the score next to Shelly’s name, adding case: closed. It was safe to assume they’d never see Shelly again.

“You know, Jules,” Emily said after a moment, “I think Dad might be looking for happiness a little too far away.”

“What do you mean?” Julie asked, fully focused on aggressively dunking multiple fries into honey mustard.

“I mean that—”

“Oh, crap,” Julie groaned loudly as the entire blob of mustard slid off the fries and splattered onto her shirt before she could get them into her mouth. “Why does this always happen?”

“Because you eat like you haven’t seen food in a week,” Emily sighed, reaching for the napkins between them. But Julie had already smeared the mustard with her equally dirty finger and bent down to lick the fabric.

“For fuck’s sake, Jules…”

“What?” Julie mumbled, genuinely confused by Emily’s look of disgust. Even as the stain spread further, she kept touching it.

“I can’t believe I ever thought you were mysterious and intimidating,” Emily smacked her dirty hands away and leaned closer, pressing napkins against the wet stain. “The longer I know you, the more I realize you’re just… a dorky, filthy little piglet. What does Didi even see in you?”

“Well…” Julie smiled widely, lifting her hands and letting Emily work. “Didi likes it when I’m a little…filthy.”

“Shut up and eat,” Emily muttered irritably, though she eventually gave up and smiled to herself when Julie burst out laughing.

A few minutes later, Emily tossed the used napkins aside—they hadn’t helped much, especially since Julie had once again lost a battle with mustard in the meantime.

“Anyway,” Emily said finally, “back to the point. I think we know the perfect candidate for Dad.”

“Who?”

“Your mother.”

“Emily. No.” Julie turned toward her immediately, completely forgetting about the food. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I think they’d be perfect together.”

“That would be ultra weird.”

“Not really, but fine.”

“I am not doing Parent Trap with you, Em.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Do not set them up.”

“Okay.” Emily shrugged half-heartedly, sipping the last of her drink through the straw.

She stared ahead, softly humming along to the song playing on the radio. Next to her, Julie started fidgeting in her seat like she was being eaten alive by ants, muttering under her breath and huffing indignantly.

Emily just waited.

“So… purely hypothetically,” Julie finally said, her voice suddenly much higher than usual. Emily covered her mouth to hide her grin. “How would we even go about it?”

Emily didn’t really have a plan—but together, they could definitely come up with one.

***

Julie was just finishing putting on her jewelry when the doorbell rang.
Before she even turned around, it rang again. And again. And again.

She rolled her eyes, a little amused.
Of course Emily was already trying to get on her nerves.

But when Julie opened the door, it was Megan who got caught with her hand still on the bell.

Julie raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed, fixing her with a look of pure disapproval.
Megan, however, just grinned back at her and chirped, “Hey, Jules!”

Julie was starting to seriously worry that Megan’s friendship with Emily had completely sent her down the wrong path.
(Though, objectively speaking, Didi wasn’t exactly a great influence either.)

Sometimes Julie missed the days when Megan was actually afraid of getting on her bad side.

Without any hesitation, Megan and Emily slipped into the apartment before Julie had officially invited them in. For some reason, Megan already looked like she was on the verge of bursting out laughing—but Julie didn’t get a chance to ask why, because Emily happily pulled a bottle of white wine out of her bag.

“I brought your favorite!” she announced, waving the bottle in front of Julie’s face.

Julie opened her mouth to respond—but froze when she actually looked Emily up and down.

“No. Absolutely not,” Julie growled, crossing her arms and glaring at her.

Emily frowned, clearly confused, and Julie could practically see the gears turning in her head until realization finally hit.

“Hey, nice dress,” Emily laughed at last—and Megan completely lost it.

“You had to wear it today?” Julie said, rubbing her temples like a headache had suddenly hit her. “Seriously, Em?!”

“What’s the big deal?” Emily shrugged. “Yeah, okay, it’s a fancy christmas party, but come on—it’s still a Pacific View thing. Nobody’s gonna be shocked if we show up dressed the same.”

“Yeah, but please. Not today.”

“Then change, Jules. What’s the problem?”

“Great idea. Except you’re the one changing,” Julie shot back instantly, grabbing Emily’s hand and dragging her toward the walk-in closet.

“Julie, we’re in your apartment. You’ve got like a million things that fit you.”

“Emily,” Julie said seriously, turning to face her and gripping her by both shoulders, giving her a small shake. “If you just pick something else from my closet, get changed nicely, and don’t ask me any questions, you can keep whatever outfit you want. Forever. Deal?”

“Oh, we have a deal!” Emily practically bounced with excitement and immediately started digging through the hangers. “I feel like you’re really gonna lose on this one, but hey—your funeral.”

“Does this deal include me too?” Megan asked casually, already scanning the closet with interest.

“You didn’t show up wearing exactly the same thing as me.”

Megan hummed under her breath and stepped deeper into the closet, leaning lightly against Julie’s shoulder.

“True. But, you know… maybe you paid Em off to stay quiet, but I can still ask you some uncomfortable questions.”

Julie threw her head back with a heavy sigh, swearing under her breath.
Sweet, slightly naïve Megan had truly been corrupted by their influence.

“Take whatever you want,” Julie muttered at last.

At least they’d clear out some space for new clothes.

By the time they reached Pacific View, they’d actually finished the entire bottle of wine, so right after a quick round of greetings with the residents, they made a beeline for the snack table.

Well—Emily and Megan did.
Julie barely cared.

She hung back a little, scanning the crowd with sharp attention. She only relaxed when she felt a familiar hand on her back, sliding gently toward her hip, and then Didi appeared in front of her with a dazzling smile.

“Hey, love,” Didi said softly, her gaze roaming over Julie’s body in the tight, strapless black dress. “God, you look incredible.”

“Oh? Do I?” Julie bit her lip, fighting the smug smile threatening to take over her face.

“Absolutely,” Didi sighed, pulling her closer by the hip. Her other hand traced along Julie’s bare arm, up to her shoulder, and finally settled at her neck. “I still can’t believe how lucky I am.”

Julie was very glad she hadn’t changed—and had forced Emily to instead.
Sure, she’d lost a few clothing items to Emily and Megan, but the way Didi was looking at her was worth every single one.

She was also glad she’d worn heels. They made her just a little taller than Didi, which was exactly why she’d grown to love stilettos even more over the past year.

“I’m the lucky one. Or at least i'm gonna get lucky tonight.” Julie murmured, wrapping her arms around Didi’s neck and leaning in to kiss her. They usually avoided that at Pacific View, trying to keep up appearances—but they’d long decided that special occasions and parties were fair game.

“Ohhh, that’s why you didn’t want to change,” Emily said around a mouthful of cheese, holding a small plate of snacks. Megan, meanwhile, had decided to focus on drinking and stood next to her with a glass of wine. “Now I get it.”

“Why would she change?” Didi asked, pulling back slightly and looking confused. “Shouldn’t I be asking why both of you are wearing my girlfriend’s clothes?”

“Em showed up in literally the same dress as Jules, and Jules basically forced her to change. I took the opportunity to grab something new too,” Megan explained quickly with a smug grin. “You should’ve seen it.”

A soft “oh” slipped out of Didi’s mouth as she blinked slowly, looking back and forth between Julie and Emily. She scrunched up her nose—and then burst into laughter, loud but a little nervous.

“Oh my god, stop imagining Emily looking like me!” Julie snapped, almost seeing it too. Didi only laughed harder.

“I strongly support this request. Didi, please stop,” Emily added, looking mildly horrified.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it,” Didi laughed. “Em, I don’t think I’ll ever look at you the same way again.”

“Thanks, Meg,” Julie said dryly, turning to her with an accusing glare. “I thought I was gonna have a great night, but you broke my girlfriend’s brain.”

Megan raised her hands innocently, still grinning. Didi kissed Julie softly on the cheek and tightened her arm around her waist.

“You know what,” Emily sighed, stuffing more cheese into her mouth, “just to be safe, I think I’m gonna throw that dress out. For my own protection. I really don’t want Di to ever see me in it by accident.”

“Do you have to be so dramatic? It’s actually a really nice dress,” Megan said thoughtfully, swirling her wine. “You know… this might be a good time for an experiment.”

“I have a bad feeling all three of us are about to regret listening to you,” Didi muttered.

“Oh, come on, I think it’s a fascinating experiment,” Megan waved her off. “Em, we all know you and Jules are pretty similar. So maybe we should ask whether your life partners are similar too.”

She grinned even wider when all three of them stared at her with the exact same expression.

“I think the dress could test that,” Megan continued. “Maybe Julie wouldn’t be the only one getting lucky tonight.”

“Yes,” Didi sighed, “I definitely regret hearing this already.”

“No, wait… Meg kind of has a point,” Emily said slowly, clearly considering it, completely ignoring Julie’s loud groan of despair.

***

Julie had been trying for a long time not to look at her family like a detective hunting for clues and hidden truths.
And she’d gotten better at it—mostly.

But she still wasn’t used to the idea that if she didn’t spot things before people were ready to admit them, she also didn’t have time to emotionally prepare herself. Some revelations really hit hard.

Like the moment she realized that Emily’s ridiculous idea (which Julie had definitely not been involved in) had actually worked.

Honestly, she didn’t want to know—but she found out by accident. Mostly because both Charles and Vanessa were terrible at being subtle or lying convincingly. Which was surprising, considering one was a criminal with a long rap sheet and the other a skilled detective.

People really were full of contradictions.

Julie would’ve happily stayed oblivious for a few more weeks. But when she started having to schedule time with her mom in advance because Vanessa suddenly had mysterious evening plans she refused to explain—and Charles, weirdly enough, had to leave work early on the exact same days—Julie didn’t need detective skills.

Just basic pattern recognition.
And a gut feeling.
(A gut feeling that sounded exactly like Emily yelling, “SEE? I TOLD YOU!”)

Even though Julie had theoretically been prepared for the possibility that Emily was right and her efforts might succeed, actually realizing it was happening—her mother and… whatever Charles was to her (employee/former ward/friend/father figure/pain in her ass?) possibly knowing each other far more intimately than they had a few months ago—made her want to jump off a bridge.

Honestly, when she accidentally overheard Charles on the phone with Vanessa saying he couldn’t wait to see her, Julie felt like she’d walked in on them in bed.

Of course, when she finally put it all together and wanted to scream, Megan was on a date and Didi was buried in work and couldn’t deal with her meltdown. So Julie did the only logical thing and got in her car and drove to Sacramento.

If she was suffering, Emily should be suffering too—especially since this was all her fault.

“I hope you’re proud of yourself!” Julie snapped when she stormed into their house. “Are you a witch? Did you seriously manifest this?”

“Oh shit, seriously?” Emily’s eyes went wide—then she burst out laughing. “Wow. I’m good.”

Julie rolled her eyes, grabbed Emily’s hand, and dragged her off the couch toward the stairs.

“Joel, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight,” Julie called out. “Your wife and I have a lot to talk about.”

“Same as every time you’re here,” Joel replied resignedly, taking Emily’s spot.

Honestly, it happened at least once a month.

“I really don’t get why you’re freaking out so much, Froggy,” Emily said lightly, completely unbothered. She flopped onto the middle of the bed while Julie opened her closet like she owned it and started digging through it.

“And I really don’t get how you’re this calm,” Julie muttered. “Where are my sweatpants?”

“What sweatpants?” Emily asked innocently.

“My sweatpants. The ones you left my apartment in last time and thought I wouldn’t notice.”

“Bottom shelf,” Emily sighed, rolling her eyes. Julie hummed happily as she grabbed them.

“And I’m calm because this is exactly what I wanted. You did too. Our parents make sense together. We all know it.”

“Maybe,” Julie said, stripping out of her suit and tossing it onto a chair. They’d both seen each other in their underwear more times than they could count. “But we can never admit we had anything to do with this. Otherwise they’ll never let it go. I do not want to be the ‘our girls set us up’ story.”

“Okay, fair,” Emily agreed. Then she froze, staring at Julie’s bruised thighs. “Jesus, Jules. Are you and Didi ever gonna chill?”

“Nope,” Julie grinned.

“You’ve been together over two years. I thought you’d stop acting like teenagers.”

“You’re just jealous,” Julie shrugged, pulling on her sweatpants and flopping onto the bed. “But hey—if the idea of me having sex with my girlfriend grosses you out, just imagine your dad doing the same things with my mom.”

She instantly traumatized herself—but it was worth it when Emily gagged and kicked her in the leg.

“Now we’re even,” Julie laughed, rolling onto her side.

“Ugh, stop talking!” Emily groaned, pushing her face away.

They laughed, then settled.

“Anyway,” Emily said after a moment, “I’d rather focus on the good parts.”

“Like?”

“Like them being happy. And the fact that you’ll be my annoying little sister.”

“I thought I already was,” Julie muttered, looking away, embarrassed.

“Yeah. But now it’s official.”

“Well. Technically you’ll have two sisters.”

“What do you mean?” Emily asked hopefully.

“I have a biological sister.”

“Ah. Right. That,” Emily said quickly, and the smile slipped off her face for a few seconds, like that wasn’t the answer she’d been hoping for at all. Julie had a pretty good idea what Emily had actually wanted to hear, and on one hand she felt a small spike of panic — and on the other, something warm spread through her chest.

But maybe this wasn’t the moment to talk about it.

“You know, younger sisters are supposed to steal clothes from older ones,” Julie said lightly, nudging her with her foot. “And somehow it’s the other way around with us.”

“Excuse me? Who’s in my bed, in my house, wearing my sweatpants?”

“Emily, those are my sweatpants!”

“They’re in my house, so they’re mine. Besides, I steal your clothes—but you stole my style.”

“Jesus. How does Joel put up with you?”

“How does Didi put up with you?”

“I have ways of making it up to her,” Julie grinned widely.

Emily laughed, then suddenly sat up and pulled Julie with her.

“Alright,” Emily said excitedly. “We need to catch up.”

“On what?”

“We need to catch up on all the stuff we should know about each other by now but somehow don’t,” Emily said quickly, her tone slightly irritated, like it genuinely offended her that Julie wasn’t keeping up with her brain. “I’ll start. Okay. When I was a kid, I was obsessed with Peter Rabbit, and for years I named every single stuffed animal Peter. Also, my first boyfriend was named Peter too. But let’s not analyze that — I was eight.When I was ten, I knocked out my front tooth tripping over a curb. First period at twelve. First real kiss a week after my fifteenth birthday — with Ray, my dad’s friend’s son. It was… awful. I lost my virginity at seventeen to my boyfriend at the time. I was supposed to be at a drawing class, but somehow ended up in his room instead. It lasted five minutes, so you can imagine how great that was. For two weeks in college, Joel and I were in an open relationship because I wanted to be cool. I kissed a few girls during that time, but turns out — not for me.”

“Wait. What?”

“Froggy, don’t interrupt me.” Emily raised a finger at her in warning. “I once wanted to get a back tattoo but panicked and canceled the appointment. Oh — I went through a phase of not shaving for, like, over a year. And out of all my kids, only Wyatt was planned.”

“Okay, Em, stop. That’s enough,” Julie said loudly, cutting through the verbal avalanche. “I have so many questions, but at the same time I really don’t want to ask them? I don’t think I need details. About… anything.”

“Your choice.” Emily flashed a slightly unhinged grin, and Julie immediately knew she was right not to ask. “Your turn.”

“Okay, so…” Julie bit her lip, shifting awkwardly, trying to figure out what she actually wanted to share. “I was obsessed with snails. Like, obsessed. I even had a little terrarium where they lived. I could watch them for hours. One day I forgot to close the lid and they escaped. Or that’s the official version. I’m pretty sure my mom or my sister let them out because they were grossed out.”

“Why am I not surprised you were that kid?” Emily sighed in disbelief.

“Didn’t we agree not to interrupt?” Julie snapped. “Anyway — when I moved in with my grandparents, they let me keep stick insects, so that was cool. First period at thirteen. Also at thirteen, I watched When Harry Met Sally for the first time with my sister. Still think I was a bit too young for it, but it’s been my favorite movie ever since. Mostly because that’s when I realized I was a lesbian — based entirely on how badly I wanted to kiss Meg Ryan. I only ever dated one boy in my entire life. Three dates. We did gymnastics together. Turned out we were both… very gay. I lost my virginity in college, with a girl I randomly met in the library. Mirabel. Adorable girl, glasses, total sweetheart. Unfortunately, after a few months she wanted to define things, and I… well. I was me. Oh — I dyed my hair blonde once. Terrible decision. I will never show you pictures. And when I hired Megan after our first solved case, we celebrated a bit too hard and to this day I have no idea what happened that night or how I got home. That’s enough information for today.”

“Okay, yeah. I think I also prefer not asking follow-up questions.”

“Probably a wise call,” Julie laughed, flopping back down onto the mattress. After a moment, Emily joined her. Julie turned her head toward her, trying to look serious. “But I do have to say — it’s a good thing your husband’s name isn’t Peter.”

“Oh my god, don’t even start,” Emily groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Jace almost was Peter. Not my idea!”

“Your family is seriously unhinged,” Julie muttered, still laughing — then went quiet for a second and added softly, “Our family.”

“Well, at least it’s never boring.” Emily smiled at her and patted her hand. They lay there in silence for a while, staring at the ceiling.

Maybe Julie had panicked too much. Maybe Emily was right, and the whole thing with their parents could actually turn out to be something good — with even more positive consequences. Charles and Vanessa genuinely liked each other. So why shouldn’t they try? Sometimes you just have to give things a chance.

“Hey, Em,” Julie said quietly after a few minutes, inching a little closer. “Can I tell you one more secret?”

“Go on.” Emily grinned, turning fully toward her.

“About you having more sisters than just me…” Julie hesitated, her voice trembling slightly as she licked her lips. “What I actually meant was… I think I really want to marry Didi.”

“Finally!” Emily burst out laughing, grabbing her arm and shaking her excitedly. “God, I’ve been waiting weeks for you to admit that. Megan and I were already betting on which one of you would propose first.”

“Wait, what?” Julie muttered, blinking a few times before letting out a long sigh. “Of course you talked about it before I even figured it out myself…”

***

Didi slammed the brakes right in the driveway in front of Charles’s house. Julie still hadn’t managed to explain to her—successfully—that driving calmly, like a rational human being, was an option.

“Alright, Operation Propaganda is officially a go,” she said cheerfully as she turned off the engine and twisted around in her seat to face Julie, flashing her a wide grin. “Ready, Agent Wet Blanket?”

“Didi, I thought we agreed we wouldn’t talk to each other like that?” Julie sighed, already exhausted.

“Oh no, no. You can’t use my real name right now.” Didi lowered her voice dramatically, pressing a finger to her lips like someone might actually be listening in. “We’re on a secret mission. Right now, you only know me by my codename…”

She tilted her head and gave Julie a pointed look. They stared at each other for a moment, but Didi just waited her out. Julie sighed again and rolled her eyes.

“Agent Rizzler,” she muttered at last.

Julie had to actively remind herself that she had, in fact, chosen to commit to this idiot and spend the rest of her life with her. And she had known exactly what she was signing up for…

“That’s better,” Didi replied smugly.

“You know what…” Julie shot back with a mischievous smile—no way she was letting this go that easily. “I still think that’s a terrible codename.”

“Oh yeah? I rizzed you.”

“Sure, Di. You met me, I caught your eye, and boom— you managed to land a date with me a whole year later. Truly legendary flirting skills, babe.”

Got her. The smug smile slipped off Didi’s face for just a second. Her eyes narrowed, jaw tightening.

“Good enough that you said yes when I proposed, Wet Blanket,” she fired back almost instantly.

And yeah—Julie lost that round. Like she usually did. Somehow, no matter how solid Julie’s arguments were, Didi was never stunned for more than a few seconds. Honestly, that might’ve been one of the things Julie still found incredibly hot.

“Fine,” Julie huffed, crossing her arms.

Didi laughed, leaned in, and kissed her on the cheek, instantly killing any desire Julie had to keep sulking.

“Let’s start Operation Propaganda.”

Nico came flying down the stairs the moment they got out of the car, beelining straight for them. With his brothers away at college, Nico was usually the only representative of the youngest Nieuwendyk generation at family gatherings. Julie quickly learned that it only took one of Emily’s kids to create total chaos—even the most well-behaved one.

Julie exchanged a knowing look with Didi and headed toward the house while the other woman wrapped an arm around Nico and steered him back toward the car.

Without hesitation, Julie barged straight into Charles’s living room, full of cheerful chatter from the rest of the family. Everyone went quiet the second she appeared, leaning casually against the edge of the table.

“Froggy!” Charles called out with a wide grin, not moving from his seat, one arm still around her mother. “I thought we were meeting you guys at the restaurant? Did I miss something?”

“Nope, that was the plan. Plans changed,” Julie said quickly, sliding a stuffed tote bag off her shoulder.

She flipped it upside down over the table and shook it hard, dumping the contents everywhere—rolled-up rainbow T-shirts, pride pennants, a flag, a pile of pins and wristbands.

Everyone stared at the mess, then slowly looked back at Julie.

“Grab whatever catches your eye. Quickly,” she added, leaning over the table again.

She snatched one of the shirts and hurled it at Emily, aiming straight for her face (no one could prove it was on purpose).

“This one’s yours.”

“Okay, but… why?” Emily asked uncertainly, barely catching it before it smacked her in the nose.

“Because we’re going to the Parade.”

“I didn’t think you were the type to go to something like that…” Vanessa said cautiously, still watching Julie while reaching for one of the pennants.

“I’m not,” Julie muttered. But when everyone stared even harder as she pulled off her denim shirt, revealing a T-shirt with a big rainbow LOVE across the front, she rolled her eyes and added, “But Nico is. So… we’re all going.”

“What?” Emily raised her eyebrows in shock, clutching the shirt to her chest. “How do you know Nico wants to go?”

“Oh, do I really need to remind you that connecting clues is literally my job?” Julie said casually, already sounding a little impatient. “He’s an excited teenager who just came out to a supportive family. He feels safe. He’s the one who insisted we all meet today. And he picked a place right downtown—on the parade route. Come on.”

She started handing things out herself. Charles immediately pinned a badge to his shirt pocket. After a moment, Julie added more quietly, with a soft sigh,

“Besides… he told Didi straight-up that if we ever went, he wanted us to take him.”

“Oh wow,” Joel snorted, grabbing the last T-shirt from her hand. “You really are the stereotypical cool gay aunts, huh?”

“Yes,” Julie said firmly. They could tease her all they wanted—she took that role very seriously. “Now change fast. We don’t have much time. Didi’s keeping Nico busy pretending to do a quick refresher for his driving test.”

“I still don’t know if letting Didi teach him how to drive is a good idea,” Charles muttered as Vanessa helped him put on an aggressively bright rainbow tie.

“She behaves when he’s with her. And she’s the only one left after everyone else lost their patience with the disaster that was Wyatt,” Julie replied, struggling to get a braided bracelet over her wrist.

She liked Nico a lot, but after spending hours teaching his brother and ending up with her car in the shop, there was no chance she’d volunteer again.

“Out of all possible options, you decided to buy me the exact same shirt you’re wearing?” Emily asked in disbelief when she and Joel came back, already changed.

Julie turned to her, amused.

“I thought you’d appreciate the joke,” she said casually. “Also, there was a buy-two discount.”

“You couldn’t give the other one to Didi?”

“I’m not wearing matching outfits with my partner. That’s weird,” Julie grimaced. “Besides, today you and I can look the same, Em.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Because let’s be real—we’re not actually spending that much time together.”

“What do you mean? We’re going together.”

“Sure, but the second you see your kid happy, you’ll start crying and won’t let him out of your sight,” Julie laughed, nudging Emily, who rolled her eyes. “And even if you remember we exist… I fully plan on spending most of the day publicly making out with my fiancée.”

“Yeah…” Emily sighed. “I really should’ve expected that.”

“Are we really going?!” Nico yelled excitedly.

Before Julie could even turn around, his arms wrapped around her from behind like octopus tentacles, his long bony body sticking uncomfortably to her back. He squeezed so hard he actually lifted her off the ground, making her squeak in surprise.

“Thanks!”

“You can thank me by putting me back on the floor,” Julie muttered, even as a smile crept onto her face.

Emily sniffed loudly in front of them. Julie didn’t even need to look to know she already had tears in her eyes.

“I told you you’d react li—” the rest was cut off when Emily crashed into her, knocking the air out of her lungs. “Jesus, Em…”

Julie tried for a few seconds to wriggle free from Emily and her youngest child. When they only squeezed tighter, she gave up with a sigh, awkwardly patting Emily’s back.

Somewhere behind them, Didi was losing it laughing. Julie smiled even wider.

***

Julie woke up alone in the huge empty bed just as the sun was coming up. She lazily threw on a hotel robe and dug an energy drink out of her suitcase—maybe intentionally smuggled a few in, knowing she wouldn’t survive the next couple of days without them.

After a few gulps, she sat on the floor at the foot of the bed, staring at the garment bag hanging on the wardrobe door. Minutes passed. She stood up, slid it open, sat back down, and kept staring.

An hour later, an empty crushed can hit the trash, and Julie was pulled from her thoughts by a knock at the door.

She jumped up and nearly skipped over, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh. It’s just you,” she sighed, the smile fading when she opened the door. She turned on her heel and went back to her spot.

“Wow. Great to see you too, Froggy,” Emily muttered, amused, closing the door behind her. She was wrapped in the same hotel robe as Julie and sat down beside her.

“No offense, Em, but I was kind of hoping to see my wife. Not you.”

“Well, she’s not your wife yet.”

“She will be in a few hours,” Julie said, grinning again. “I’m just getting used to saying it.”

“You’re adorable.”

“I’ll be less adorable when I strangle you and Megan,” Julie said, pinching Emily’s thigh for emphasis. “I can’t believe you talked us into spending the night before the wedding apart. Worst idea ever.”

“Oh, you know what they say—absence makes the heart grow fonder…”

“Emily, I genuinely don’t know if I can love her more,” Julie replied. She laughed softly, but they both knew she meant it.

Emily slipped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, and together they looked at the white dress again.

Everyone had worried Julie would lose her mind—and probably her savings—choosing a wedding dress. Instead, she shocked them all by picking one on her second fitting and refusing to see any others.

Even though neither Emily nor Megan expected that  - elegant chiffon dress, with a square neckline, long sleeves, and a flowing A-line skirt - they’d spent months counting down the days to the wedding, wondering if Didi might actually pass out when she saw her wife.

“You know… I’m really glad you agreed to be my maid of honor,” Julie said suddenly, smiling softly.

“Why do I feel like this is about to turn into a dig?” Emily asked, rolling her eyes. “Go on.”

“Because today, at least, I know you won’t be wearing the same thing as me,” Julie finished, flashing a full, toothy grin.

“Yeah, you just made sure I match Meg instead,” Emily laughed.

“Sorry. That’s the bridesmaid life.”

“Trust me, Froggy. Today, I’ll make sure you get all the attention—and that everything goes perfectly.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. No one’s ruining my annoying little sister’s big day,” Emily said, squeezing her shoulder. Julie didn’t even try to pretend  she didn’t  lean  into her.

And it all started with matching knitted hoodie sweaters.