“He burned my scarf.” Justin put his hand over Kris’s, also seemingly without thought: seeking support. “I think he—he burned everything of mine. Everything I left at his place. I can’t find any of it.”
And he should be able to. Anything that exists, he’d said once; Kris recalled that. Anything he could see, smiling, the universe a kaleidoscope at fingertips.
“Is this the right time,” asked Andy, “to tell you we never liked him?”
Justin blinked. Twice. Made a sound, a fractured jewel trapped between a sob and a hiccup of laughter. “You didn’t?”
Both twins made faces, and shook heads, in unison.
Justin blinked at them again. “Oh. I—um, give me a minute, okay, I just—I need a sec, sorry—” He vanished, extremely literally: a whip-crack of smoke lingered. He hadn’t gone far; they heard th
