Leah runs her fingers through her brown hair and braids it so she won’t get in trouble for not following dress code. Her hair is darker than mine, but not by much. Her hazel eyes are lighter, but they mostly look red and tired now. We’re not identical. Not quite. But she is still the other half of me.

I don’t know how to exist without her.

“All I’m saying is, some days, I wish we could sleep in,” she grumbles.

I roll my eyes and straighten her scratchy blazer. Our brains are wired differently, she once told me. She can’t read well, but I can. I don’t talk, but she does. And I like routine. It’s reassuring. Every morning, I know when I get to eat. Every night, I have a roof over my head and a bed to sleep in. We may not be comfortable here, but it’s better than before.

Across the hallway, Nia Miller stifles a yawn. Underneath her bangs, she gives me a tired grin and waves. She’s my age, Black, with her hair tied back in a curly ponytail, and ink stains on her sleeves. She has a few crumpled pages stuffed in the pockets of her pants. I gesture at her to push the paper deeper so the guards won’t see it, and she does.

“Thanks,” she mouths.

I smile. I like Nia. She’s always drawing, though I don’t think anyone’s ever seen the work. That’s okay. She shouldn’t have to share if she doesn’t want to.

Leah nudges me. “Eyes down.”

Warden Davis and two of the guards show up at our wing. The warden stalks past, a clipboard in hand, staring at every single one of us like he’s looking for something. I glance at him through my lashes. He wears a dark suit and an angry frown, and he towers over us.

Josie Watson, the white girl in the room next to ours, doesn’t seem fazed by his presence. She meets his gaze. She has chestnut hair cropped past her ears, and her eyes are cold. When she sees me looking, she doesn’t smile or wave, and I quickly look away. She scares me. She stabbed another girl, and I wouldn’t put it past her to do it again.

“What is he doing?” I sign at Leah, when the warden reaches the other side of the hallway and marks something down.

Leah hushes me. “Not now.”

She’ll figure it out. And if not my sister, someone else will know. Or Warden Davis will tell us in one of his endless speeches about rules and good behavior. He believes everything is a teachable moment.

It’s one of the reasons we all hold our breath until he’s gone again, and the guards get us moving toward breakfast. That’s what movement line is. Everything we do is controlled and supervised by the guards.

The rest of our wing falls in line around us.

Isabella Gonzales leads the way to breakfast. She’s here because she got into a fight with her one of her teachers and got arrested for assault. She’s one of the kindest people I’ve met. She’s the only one aside from my sister who shares her dessert with me.