I looked between them. “I won’t tell anyone about Covington’s boyfriend, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

East Keep scooted close to Covington who seemed, suddenly, sad.

“What is it?” I asked.

Covington dabbed at the corner of her eyes, her gold rings flashing in the crystalights above. “You might as well tell her, West Keep. You’re in a talkative mood.”

The twin who had spoken out of turn rubbed her side sheepishly. “Covington’s boyfriend had to leave Cobane today. He broke up with her before he left. We just heard the news. I—forgot.”

“You’re an idiot,” East Keep said.

“Am not! I said I was sorry!”

“No, actually, you didn’t,” East Keep said.

“Ladies, can we just get along, please?” Hannibal said, gently. “We’ve been through enough today already.” She glanced around, seeking confirmation from each of us.

I nodded my assent along with the twins.

“I guess we are here for fun, not fighting,” East Keep said.

“And to do our hair, don’t forget!” one twin said. “You promised.”

East Keep smiled reluctantly. “I remember.”

Except for Covington, they each took out bags of grooming supplies and began arranging the jars and bundles on a large coffee table. Covington remained seated, her arms crossed over her body. West Keep had let it slip that Covington’s boyfriend was from Point Landing, just like the messenger. Had they known each other? I moved to sit beside Covington, but kept my questions to myself.

“No, no. You can’t sit there!”

I looked up to see one twin shooing me away from my seat. “Why not?”

She rolled her eyes. “If you sit there, you’ll be at the head of the braiding line, and Covington’s always at the head of the braiding line.”

I stood up. “What’s a braiding line?”

“Oh, dear.”

Before West Keep could recover, Hannibal took my arm and led me away. The twins rearranged six chairs, so they were front to back around the coffee table. Hannibal settled me down in the last one.

“A braiding line is how we keep ourselves looking so stylish. Not that it matters,” she added more quietly. She sat down in front of me. “Haven’t you ever noticed how difficult it is to twist your own hair?”

“My arms tire, I guess.”

“Exactly! Twisting and shaping four dozen braids takes hours,” the twins said. They sat in the two chairs in front of Hannibal and took turns explaining.

“Then you have to pin it up.”

“Or do a beehive.”

“Victory rolls are so glamourous; don’t you think?”