"Is something wrong, Maddie?" asked Lizzie.
"Something is obviously wrong," said Andrea. "Madeline has super huge bags under her eyes."
Madeline shot up. "I don't have any bags!"
"What's up, Madeline?" asked Debra.
"Do I have bags?"
"I'll tell you later. What's up?"
"It's my cousin Veronique."
"From Quebec?" inquired Skye.
"Yeah. She's here."
"What is she doing in California?" questioned Debra.
"Torturing me."
"Why?" asked Lizzie.
"Veronique has Lyme disease."
"Ooh," uttered Skye softly.
"Oh no," said Lizzie. "Did she eat a lime and get sick?"
"No, Lizzie," Madeline replied. "Lyme disease is something you get from a tick."
"Oh, I guess that makes sense."
"Right. So because of it, Veronique's house is quarantined. Until it becomes sanitary, her parents sent her off to my house to stay for a while."
"Wait, your cousin's parents sent their diseased daughter to your house?" questioned Skye.
"She's wearing a mask and uses hand sanitizer every fifteen minutes."
"Well, that makes it so much better."
"My parents take care of her when I'm at school and they go to work right before I come back. So every time I go home, I have to check up on her."
"What if we help?" suggested Lizzie.
"Uh-uh," Skye uttered before sipping her can of soda.
"I don't know if I want you guys helping me," said Madeline. "I mean she has Lyme disease and P.M.S."
"I love you, Madeline, and every person a part of you," admitted Skye, putting her drink down, "but I ain't getting sick over nothing. I want to be able to live until I'm at least sixty-nine."
"That's specific," said Debra.
"Well, David Bowie made it to that age so..."
"I can't believe I have to take care of Veronique for God knows when," complained Madeline. "I have to take care of myself, too, you know. Plus, Veronique or her parents could have practically hired some nurses or something. She did bring, like, thirty-thousand dollars with her."
"Thirty-thousand dollars?" repeated Andrea.
"Yeah. Thirty or forty."
"She's rich?" asked Skye.
"Practically, yes."
"Oh, then we're helping. No question about it."
"Yeah, I'm in," said Andrea.
Debra and Lizzie nodded and smiled.
"You guys are pigs," scoffed Madeline.
"Well, this piggy needs to go to the market," said Skye, "so she can buy some bling. Don't you blow my house down. It won't even go down. It'll be made of pure marble. Or whatever Heidi Montag put in her boobs."
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