Mirai Leah wasn’t just pretty; she was beautiful. Not in the way of delicate things like flowers or rainbows, but in the way of stone carved into bold, suggestive images. When you first saw her face with its wide smile and fine, chiseled features, you might have thought her delicate. Her long blond hair and startling green eyes might have attracted you initially; you might have taken note of her perfect skin. But after you looked more closely, shifting your eyes from her face to other regions, you would have noticed the broad shoulders and strong hands. You would have seen the confident way she held herself, the cat-like, fluid way she moved, and the strength evident in her arms and legs. If you came much closer, you would have noticed the penetrating gaze and the glimmer of humor that was almost, but not quite, hidden behind it.

Redden and Railing noticed all this every time they saw her, and every time they saw her all the strength went out of their legs. Their otherwise abundant confidence evaporated, and they suddenly felt flushed and more than a little out of their depth.

It was embarrassing, but they couldn’t seem to do anything about it.

Mirai came down off the steps of the veranda and walked up to Redden. “Hey there, Red. Happy to see me?”

She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, and he felt the iron in her hands as she gripped his shoulders. No hesitation, not even a pause as she approached and decided—rightly—which twin he was.

“Railing,” she greeted his brother, moving over to kiss him, as well. She touched his cheek and wiped something away. “Busy morning?” she asked, eyes laughing, smiling widely. “Helping that old man must have been hard work.”

Railing started to say something in reply, but she put a finger on his lips to silence him and shook her head. “Why don’t you just come inside and eat something before it’s time to leave?”

Without further explanation she took his hand, then Redden’s, and tugged them both after her up the steps and through the door. She was the same age as they were, but it always felt to them as if she were much older and much more in control of things. The brothers went docilely, smiling at their mother who was watching it all with narrowed eyes, feeling like little boys caught out.

Mirai did that to them. She was the one thing they didn’t share. Couldn’t share. They were both in love with her and had been for as long as they could remember, and they both realized that in the end only one of them could have her.