finch lockhart, five. cb two.

Five has always been quiet, but I've never really minded that.

Dad had the farm for as long as he could remember; it was his Mom's place before it was his, and she'd inherited from her Daddy after he got sick and moved into a smaller place they built on the property for him. He died in there, and they buried him on the property, and from that moment on it was law that Folkhart's just aren't allowed to die anywhere but at home. There's no place else right to be laid to rest.

How my Dad managed to land Elodie Singer baffled everyone. My Mom was on a "saying yes" kick as she calls it with hindsight, but I kind of like to think that she was just going through her slut phase and ended up finding a cool guy who knew someone needed to be worshipping the ground she walked on. It's totally what she deserves.

She guffaws and blushes every time I say things like that though, and it's only gotten worse since the night Dad died. I can feel her on the verge of moving herself out to that same little barn my great grandpa moved himself into, ready to bury herself. I found her sleeping there a week after we put Dad in the ground.

That was the first night I kissed Ambrose.

The thing is, I've known the twins for my entire life. I don't think there's anyone else in the world who knows them like I do. I remember knowing them before they got easy to tell apart, before they figured out they might be able to be someone without the other. It wasn't really a conscious choice, picking Ambrose over Amias. I loved them both equally. Amias was the one who held my hand when I couldn't get off the couch at the wake for Dad. They both have their strengths. Here we are three years later, and it's still hard for me to unravel how deeply I love them both. They were my best friends before I kissed Ambrose—that didn't go away.

Amrbose was there when I needed him though. And he's been by me ever since. There's something to be said for that.