Chuckling to yourself, you consider what you need to happen to be convinced. Something you can't deny, something impossible.
Typing you write out your new wish. "I'm not Sarah's younger brother. I'm Jakki, her big sister."
You tap send, and moments later, you're feeling the same compulsion to dress skimpily. Your familiar clothes shredding themselves, until you're standing in the kitchen looking out into the glare of the garden. Sarah on the lounger.
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