At one point Austin reached for the salt at the same moment Wyatt did, and both pulled back with identical impatient expressions.

I caught myself staring.

Not with dread this time, but with wonder.

Later, I walked the boys to the porch.

They stood beneath the yellow light, arguing about whose car was parked crookedly at the curb.

Austin turned around before they left.

“Evelyn?”

“Yes?”