Twin girls who look a couple years younger than Parker come out onto the stage in white dresses tied with ocean-blue ribbons. Their blond hair is pulled back in high pigtails. I’m surprised to see kids doing a trick in water, but maybe they were raised by magician parents. Maybe that would’ve been me at age ten in a different life. When I was ten, I was trying to figure out how to make my stakes sharper with the limited tools in my foster-whatever’s garage.

But I don’t want to focus on the past right now. I want to see what’s right in front of me.

The girls don’t speak before climbing the two ladders onto the makeshift platforms beside the tanks. The girl in green who greeted me at the door walks onto the stage and places a hand on a black velvet drape that’s set up to the side of the tank.

A hush falls over the audience.

Twin lights illuminate the girls as they step off into the water. Their dresses rise as they sink, revealing old-fashioned white bloomers. They twirl, bringing their arms down and the dresses with them so only the long ribbons float out above them.

The crowd applauds. Nothing has happened, but crowds are more generous with children.

The girl in green, walking quickly and gracefully, pulls the curtain to the other side of the tank, blocking the girls from the audience’s view.

I wait to snatch up their secrets and store them away, even though I probably won’t ever do this type of trick.

The second the curtain closes, their white dresses turn to black gowns.

They turn black—no quick maneuvering, no wet puddles of discarded clothing hidden behind the tank. That was going to be my guess.

I must have blinked.

The girl in green yanks back the curtain to reveal the new dresses billowing around the entire bottom of the tank. The twins do a slow twirl so they look like giant inkblots spreading in the water, and then the girl pulls the curtain again while I keep my eyes narrowed in on the tanks. The second the curtain closes, the dresses turn blue, with long, flowing sleeves.

I did not blink. The dresses shifted right in front of my eyes. My heart beats in my throat, and I might throw up. I force a breath in and out of my nose, trying to calm myself. This is no trick.

The curtain is pulled, and they blink into orange.

Then white sequins.

Then white covered in an array of multicolored flowers.

Then they explode into flowers. The tank fills with daisies, carnations, and roses all pressing against the glass.

My head jerks upward, looking for where they must have dropped from without my seeing.

Nothing.