ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ ꜱɪᴅᴇ

l i n h

"What do you think of her?"

Tam's voice startled me as we glittered into the once-beautiful garden, now a depressingly dead place—we still weren't entirely sure where the gnomes had gone. I pushed my hood back and watched as he did the same, his silver bangs glinting in the dull sunlight.

He still seemed to be waiting for my answer. Pushing aside a withered branch, I shrugged. "The new girl? She seems nice. Very different from the others."

He snorted. "That's an understatement." Frustrated, he tugged on his jagged bangs. "I can't decide if I like her or not."

"Why shouldn't you?"

"Why should I?"

I sighed, all too used to his familiar, infuriating personality. "Well, then why are you asking?"

He tossed his bangs out of his eyes, his jaw set. "There's something about her, and it annoys me."

I almost laughed; if it were any other person, the words would've sounded almost romantic. But this was Tam—he's never crushed on anyone, and the way he spoke was like he was spitting out the words as if they were a bunch of iron nails.

"What are you planning to do about it?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"I don't know," he growled, sounding angry—not at me, but at the whole situation. "That's what pisses me off."

I shrugged again. "We should talk to her sometime."

Tam turned to stare at me, his face incredulous. "Are you crazy? We never talk to anyone, Linh. Never." He looked away. "I feel like...like she wants something from us. Like she wants to ask us something."

"So let her ask," I replied. "If I'm wrong about her, and she isn't trustworthy, then fine. That'll be entirely my fault, I promise. But she seems like a genuine person, Tammy."

He rolled his eyes at the use of my childhood nickname for him. "If you're trying to convince me, that's really not earning you any points."

We pushed through branches and vines, all dead and blackened, to the riverbank. I raised the river water up into an arch, and we crossed beneath it to the spot concealed by Tam's shadows, which he waved away to reveal our home. It was pitiful to look at, just two tents barely hanging together by a thread in a small patch of grass. But it was all we needed.

I bit my lip to try to fight off the rush of memories, Choralmere still a too-bright, too-painful image in my mind. I knew we were better off here, and yet I couldn't help missing my soft bed, the fresh food, a real dining table.

Remember your parents, I reminded myself, and that thought alone strengthened my resolve. I clenched my jaw as Tam and I headed to our opposite tents to change out of our Exillium uniforms. This was enough; it had to be enough. I'd rather live like this than live a lie, pretending to be born a year apart, pretending we weren't twins.

I'd rather do anything.