Second Bloom
The twins are not still — they have been, for the last two months, the most present thing in her physical experience, moving and responding and already, as far as she can tell, doing their own separate thing in the same space.
"What are they doing?" Clara asks, on her birthday evening, with her hand on Valentina's side.
"One of them is active," Valentina says. "The other one is still. They take turns."
"That's efficient," Clara says. With complete seriousness.
"It is," Valentina agrees. "They're already figuring out how to share."
Clara nods. "They'll need to." She removes her hand with the precision of a child who has concluded the investigation. "I'll be good at this," she says. Not as a q
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