Out in the hall, the twins waited with their backs to the wall, not fidgeting. Everly had used the heel of her boot to write a list in the dust.
Evelyn had already crossed out three items and written two new ones in their place. When Ethan stepped out, Everly erased the whole list with the side of her shoe.
"Library," she said. "Then yard. Then we practice turning without holding our breath."
"Deal," Ethan said.
On the path, students moved alone or in small groups. Some carried their reports like shields, while others had already folded them into neat squares and tucked them away like tools.
A breeze slipped under the colonnade. The smell of rain, still reconsidering itself, moved through but did not stay.
A stray cat with the blunt posture of an animal that obeys no rule written by a human walked straight through the amphitheater entrance, decided it had earned its rest, and curled under a back bench. No one told it otherwise.
