“The team Gold Trophy and the individual Gold Medals go this year to two contestants who achieved a perfect, unblemished score — a feat never recorded in the fifteen-year history of this tournament.” The silence was absolute.

Delphine held her breath, leaning forward, ready to leap up.

“Congratulations to the twin brothers — Hugo Verlaine and Atticus Verlaine.”

The room exploded, but all I could hear was the rush of my own blood.

From the lit row, two boys stood.

Immaculate white shirts, dark trousers, tall, their shoulders already broadening.

As they stepped into the aisle the giant screens flanking the stage caught their faces in merciless high definition, and I stopped breathing, because I was looking at ghosts.

I was looking at myself.