The te afternoon sunlight had mellowed into a warm gold by the time Hazel reached the edge of campus. The breeze tugged at her coat as she crossed the courtyard, her steps quiet against the brick path.

  Students filtered out of buildings in steady waves—some rushing to buses, others lingering with coffee cups and ughter.

  Hazel spotted them before they saw her.

  Alex leaned casually against the stair rail, hands tucked in her coat pockets, looking like she belonged in the still frame of a magazine—unbothered, striking, sharp-eyed.

  Stel stood beside her, arms crossed, her bag slung over one shoulder, and was animatedly recounting something with her usual bright expressiveness.

  Hazel’s approach drew both their eyes.

  “There you are,” Stel said, waving with a smile that dimmed just slightly when she took in Hazel’s expression—composed, yes, but with the faintest tautness around the eyes.

  “Busy day?” Alex asked, eyes narrowing curiously.

  Hazel gave a small nod. “Productive.”

  They started walking together, weaving through the thinning student crowd. Hazel fell into step between them.

  “I took a formal leave from csses,” she said. “Verity arranged it. Said I’d be more useful elsewhere for the time being.”

  Stel looked up sharply. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. It was precautionary.” Hazel hesitated only a moment before continuing, her voice quieter. “She tested us—Mariah, Celine, and me.”

  “Tested you?” Alex’s interest piqued immediately. “You mean combat testing?”

  “Physical stress assessments. Reflexes. Senses. Control,” Hazel confirmed.

  Alex’s golden-silver eyes lit up with sudden energy. “Finally. Someone’s taking this seriously.”

  Hazel gave her a sidelong look, amused. “Verity is thorough.”

  “Thorough enough to measure how good you are in a fight?” Alex grinned, tone teasing. “Because I’m dying to find out.”

  Stel made a choking sound, looking between them. “Wait—you fought someone? Like, seriously?”

  “It was controlled,” Hazel replied calmly. “Sparring. Measured force. No one was hurt.”

  “You sparred with someone like you?” Stel’s voice rose slightly, disbelief clouding her features. “That’s not normal school leave, Hazel!”

  Hazel’s expression didn’t change. “It wasn’t meant to be normal.”

  Alex leaned toward her slightly. “So? Who won?”

  Hazel offered a small, knowing smile. “No one. We weren’t competing.”

  Alex raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. “Still sounds like I should’ve been there. You’re telling me I missed out on fighting you?”

  “You didn’t miss anything,” Hazel said mildly.

  “You mean I didn’t get to show off,” Alex replied with mock offense. “Now I have to fight you.”

  Stel blinked between them, lips parted. “You’re both insane.”

  “Not insane,” Alex said smoothly. “Prepared.”

  Hazel gnced toward Stel, catching the way her eyes lingered—not scared, but uncertain. The kind of worry that didn’t ask questions out loud.

  Hazel reached out, brushed her fingers gently against Stel’s arm. “It was safe. Controlled. And we learned a lot.”

  Stel hesitated, then nodded, eyes dropping for a moment. “Okay. I trust you.”

  Alex nudged Hazel with a shoulder. “But I still want my turn.”

  “You’d lose,” Hazel said without malice.

  Alex gave her a smug grin. “I’d make it interesting.”

  The three of them reached the sidewalk that led home, and though the conversation drifted to lighter things—what Stel’s cssmates said about Alex, the taste of lunch from a vending machine—there was a quiet shift between them now.

  The house was quiet when they stepped inside, warm light filtering in through the windows as the door shut behind them.

  Stel headed to the kitchen, mumbling something about grabbing water. Hazel slipped off her coat and moved to the living room, while Alex followed close behind, brows slightly furrowed.

  Hazel’s steps were graceful as ever, but there was a subtle stiffness to her shoulders. Something restrained. Contained.

  Alex caught it immediately.

  “You didn’t just spar with anyone,” she said, crossing her arms. “Something else happened.”

  Hazel turned slightly, her expression unreadable. “Verity gave us a report before the evaluations.”

  Alex tilted her head, waiting.

  Hazel’s voice dropped—soft enough that it didn’t carry past the edge of the room, where Stel was humming faintly to herself in the kitchen.

  “She told me about another infected. A girl named Lena. I never met her.”

  Alex’s expression tightened. “What happened?”

  “They found her body in South Fairhaven early this morning.” Hazel’s voice stayed low, almost too calm. “She was bled out over time. Deliberately. To the point that her regeneration stopped.”

  Alex’s eyes narrowed. “They killed her on purpose.”

  Hazel nodded. “Verity believes it was intentional. Calcuted.”

  From the kitchen, Stel called, “Want me to make tea?”

  Hazel looked toward the hallway and raised her voice just enough to answer, steady and serene. “No, I’m fine.”

  Stel returned with her water and gnced between them. “You two look like you’re plotting something.”

  “We are,” Alex said lightly, already tugging her hair back into a loose tail. “I’m trying to convince your sister to spar with me.”

  Stel gave a groan. “Of course you are. You just found out she fights, didn’t you?”

  Alex grinned. “Found out she fights well.”

  Hazel gnced to Stel with a faint smile. “We’ll be careful.”

  “I swear, you’re both impossible,” Stel muttered. “Just—don’t destroy the fence.”

  Hazel gave a noncommittal hum and nodded toward the back door.

  Alex was already halfway there.

  The backyard opened up into a small green patch of grass, the kind that never quite grew straight but made the space feel private.

  A breeze stirred the leaves overhead as Hazel stepped barefoot onto the wn, her sleeves pushed up past her elbows.

  Alex followed, stretching one arm across her chest, cracking her neck once. Her golden-silver eyes gleamed. “First to three touches?”

  Hazel nodded. “No theatrics. No throwing me through the shed.”

  “Not unless you ask.”

  Stel sat on the patio step, arms crossed. “I am not cleaning up broken flowerpots.”

  Hazel gave her a look. “You’re assuming I’ll let her get that close.”

  Alex smirked and sank into a low stance.

  Hazel didn’t move.

  Then she raised one hand and said it—soft and calm, the same as always.

  “Come at me.”

  ***

  From the patio step, Stel pulled her knees up and rested her chin on them, a bottle of water cradled between her hands.

  The backyard was peaceful, the breeze mild, the fading sunlight brushing Hazel’s dark hair with a soft, molten edge.

  It looked so normal.

  Alex shifted her weight onto the balls of her feet, arms loose at her sides, her golden-silver eyes glinting faintly in the light. Hazel stood opposite her—calm, centered, her expression unreadable.

  Her blouse ruffled gently in the breeze, sleeves rolled to her elbows, exposing wrists that looked far too delicate to be dangerous.

  Stel had never seen either of them fight.

  She thought she had a sense of their strength—Hazel’s effortless control, Alex’s casual confidence—but she was wrong.

  Because the moment Hazel raised her hand and said, “Begin,” everything changed.

  The first csh was near soundless—just a sharp intake of air and a blur of motion, too fast to track.

  One second they stood facing each other. The next, Hazel was behind Alex, her hand outstretched, inches from where Alex’s shoulder had been.

  Alex twisted midair, pnted her foot against the fence post, and unched herself backward, flipping neatly over Hazel’s counterstrike.

  Stel blinked.

  And they were apart again—circling, not breathing hard, not speaking.

  Just moving.

  The second exchange was faster.

  Alex vanished from sight—just a smear of motion—and Hazel moved to meet her without even turning her head.

  Their palms collided mid-air with a soft crack, a shockwave of wind puffing through the grass like a silent exhale.

  Stel’s jaw dropped.

  It wasn’t a fight. It wasn’t even a spar.

  It was a storm contained in two bodies.

  They moved with a fluid grace that bordered on unreal—Hazel like water drawn by moonlight, Alex like fire waiting to catch. Limbs snapped forward, struck air, retreated, twisted, deflected.

  They were too fast to follow in the moment, but each pose they left behind was like a painting caught in motion—perfect form, total control, and not a trace of hesitation.

  They weren’t holding back.

  They didn’t think anyone was watching closely enough to notice.

  Stel couldn’t breathe.

  Hazel ducked beneath a sharp kick, her body folding like paper as she twisted and shot upward. Alex caught her wrist, flipped mid-spin, and nded behind her.

  Hazel pivoted instantly—her hand grazed Alex’s side, a touch so light it wouldn’t have registered to anyone else.

  Alex grinned. “One.”

  Hazel’s lip twitched. “You didn’t nd it.”

  Alex unched again. Hazel stepped into it.

  Their hands locked for a heartbeat—just long enough for Stel to see their eyes meet.

  There was no bloodlust. No anger. Just... precision. Understanding. They were equals. Mirrors.

  Hazel spun, catching Alex’s arm and sweeping low with her leg, but Alex vaulted over her, twisting midair and nding in a crouch.

  Stel exhaled sharply. “Holy shit.”

  Neither of them acknowledged her. They didn’t hear her. Or they didn’t care.

  The third exchange cracked like a whip. Hazel vanished, and Alex’s eyes tracked the motion—too te. Hazel appeared beside her, fingers two inches from her neck.

  “Two,” she whispered.

  Alex caught Hazel’s arm and pulled her forward—momentum reversed.

  They crashed into each other, bodies twisting, falling into the grass—and rolled apart, springing to their feet like dancers mid-routine.

  Both were smiling now.

  They were enjoying this.

  Stel could barely keep her heart steady.

  She had always known Hazel wasn’t the same anymore. But watching her now—watching her move faster than thought, fighting like she’d been born for it, dancing with another creature just as terrifying—it hit something deeper.

  Hazel was not human.

  And neither was Alex.

  They finished on a final burst—Alex rushing forward, palm outstretched. Hazel ducked, let the momentum pass her, and reached up.

  Three fingers brushed the back of Alex’s neck.

  Alex froze and grinned, breathless.

  “Three,” Hazel said softly.

  They stepped apart.

  The backyard was silent again, save for the rustling leaves and Stel’s uneven breath.

  Alex turned first, brushing her hair back with a zy hand. “God, you’re terrifying.”

  Hazel’s chest rose and fell once, but she wasn’t winded. “You’re not bad yourself.”

  They looked toward the house, finally remembering Stel.

  She hadn’t moved.

  She was staring at them, eyes wide, hands frozen around the now-warm water bottle in her p.

  Hazel’s expression shifted—just a fraction. She stepped forward slowly, brushing invisible dust from her sleeve.

  “Stel?”

  Stel blinked. Her voice was small. “You weren’t holding back.”

  “No,” Hazel said gently.

  “I’ve never seen anything like that,” she whispered. “You were… you moved so fast I couldn’t even follow.”

  Alex crouched nearby, arms resting on her knees. “That’s why we don’t do it in front of people.”

  Stel looked at her, then back to Hazel. “You could hurt someone without even trying.”

  Hazel nodded once. “Yes.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “I won’t.”

  Silence fell again, broken only when Stel finally stood up, dusting off her skirt. Her gaze lingered on Hazel a moment longer before she crossed to her and leaned against her side.

  “You’re still my sister.”

  Hazel let out a slow breath, one hand rising to gently rest atop Stel’s head.

  “And you’re still my world.”