Of course, now the whole ritual seems strange, but at the time it was considered a normal part of our routine. Even with our newly gained knowledge, my sister and I didn’t question it too much—until Adam grew sick. Then we couldn’t pretend Mana’s Hearth was anything other than what it was. What it is.

Adam was born missing the lower half of his left arm, though it never troubled him. I’ve learned, since escaping the Hearth, that people within are born with a higher chance of disabilities. Like me and Taema. My guess is that it’s either because of the bloodline being so intermingled in a small populace, or because the drug Mana-ma gave us for Meditation did something to babies in the womb.

Anyway, Taema and I had both been sweet on Adam. We still hadn’t quite figured out how romance would work, with us being conjoined. I guess we thought we’d deal with it when the time came. I think we would have been happy enough sharing Adam, if he liked us.

That might sound odd to some of you, but I don’t care. San Francisco has poly relationships aplenty, even if none of them are with conjoined twins. The Hearth would have accepted it just fine.

Adam caught an infection when he was tilling the fields, which most of the men and some of the stronger women took turns with. He cut himself on the plow and didn’t wash it properly, or something. It shouldn’t have been fatal. If he’d had access to a needle full of magic medicine from the city, he’d have been right as rain in less than an hour. But whatever infection Adam caught was more stubborn than our medicine could handle.

He grew worse, and was moved to the Wellness Cabin. People weren’t really allowed to go see him, but Nurse Meadows allowed us to peek in through the window. He was happy to see us. I liked to think he was sweet on us too, but that he liked me best. We brought him some grapes. His leg was all wrapped up and propped up in a sling. He was sweating and pale. I hated to see him like that. But he didn’t seem on the brink of death or anything. I figured he’d get better in no time. Just needed some rest.

“How are you feeling?” I remember Taema and I asked at the same time. I hated when we did that. We’d have the exact same tone, timing, everything, as if we were creepy echoes of each other.

Adam smiled weakly at us. “Been better, T-and-T,” he said, and we both fought down blushes. I’d always liked the joint nickname, understanding we were two, but also one. And he didn’t even know we called each other T when we were alone.