“COME HERE,” KITTY whispered. Standing in front of the open door of the second-floor guest room, she crooked her finger.

“What?” Liz said at a normal volume, and Kitty whispered, “Shh!”

As she got closer to her sister, Liz could hear a rhythmic whirring, like that of a fan. On reaching the guest room’s threshold, she was greeted with the sight of Cousin Willie sprawled on his back on one of the twin beds, the covers kicked off and Willie clad in tighty-whitey underpants and nothing else. His mouth was open, and he was snoring extremely loudly. Beside Liz, Kitty convulsed with silent laughter.

It was then that Lydia appeared behind them in the hall, apparently having gone to retrieve her smartphone. She held it in the air, its camera trained on Willie’s form, or at least this was what she did until Liz grabbed the phone away and jammed it under her left armpit. “No,” Liz said, also at a normal volume.

“Give it back,” Lydia hissed, lunging toward Liz.

“Only if you leave him alone.” Liz’s preference at this juncture in adulthood was to avoid physical fights with her sisters, yet the longer she’d been in Cincinnati, the less remote the possibility had come to seem.

“Give it to me,” Lydia said.

“He doesn’t even know,” Kitty said.

“Exactly,” Liz said. “If I catch either of you filming him again, I’ll drop both your phones in the toilet.”

“Fuck you,” Lydia said, but when she grabbed for the phone again, Liz let her take it. Lydia and Kitty strode away, and Liz glanced inside the guest room. She’d expected that the commotion would awaken Willie, but he continued to snore undisturbed. Gently, Liz shut the door.