Shocked, he jumped forward, pumping away from her, following the curve of the pool, building up speed, moving faster now than she’d ever seen. (She understood in this moment how patient he was with her normally, how much he held back his power, puttering around all day like a speedboat in a bathtub.) At first she thought he was fleeing, then he reached the far end of the pool and turned. She had a single image of him cutting back through the water, spray arcing off his fin. Hurtling toward her with the power of a god.

She did not feel the impact.

She woke to find herself on the stairs of the pool in the shallow end, his body pressed against hers, holding her there, propping her face up against the cement wall so she could breathe. He held her there, so still, so careful.

Once she groaned and sat up, he backed away. He looked her in the face, his eyes wide. Her right hip was in pain. She touched the area gently. Nothing broken, but a spreading pain, deep in the muscle. The bruise bloomed that day, over 6 inches wide. Later, during the process of healing, the colors shifted through a fleshy sunset of surprising shades before fading.

The rest of the day he followed her, attentive and careful, never pushing or shoving, just watching her, worried.

She knew the attack was her fault. The two of them limping around the pool, tired and hurt. Hiding what had happened from the men. Their first fight.

TWENTY-EIGHT
Homearium, Week 4

Sitting up in the morning, she saw something small and furry paddling around in the water at the far end of the homearium. A rat. She stood on the bed to get as far as possible from the water and yelled at Junior to get it, kill it, eat it. The rat must have fallen into the pool during the night and could not get out.

Junior, who had been sleeping, jerked up and followed her pointing finger (he was capable now of comprehending this human gesture). He swam over to the rat but didn’t swallow it in one bite as he would a fish. Instead, he circled it, investigating. His presence panicked the rat. It twisted away from him, its tail turning like a rudder. She didn’t know how long it had been swimming, but its head was low in the water. The cement walls of the pool must be too high for it to scramble out. Each time Junior got close, the rat jerked away in another direction.

With Cora still yelling, eat it, kill it, Junior cut in close on the right side. The rat jerked left, toward the shallow end of the pool and then past that, toward the far side. Junior cut in then on that side, turning it back toward the shallow end. He continued this way, cutting back and forth as necessary, not snapping at the rat, simply correcting its direction, herding the animal toward the shallows until it reached the stairs there.