Tristan stayed the night. Mr. Lane had suggested she move in with them, now that Hunter knew everything, but she refused. “I have… personal reasons. But thank you.”

“Sit with us at lunch.” Hunter suggested as they walked to school.

“Pass.” Tristan fiddled with the shoulder strap of her schoolbag and wouldn’t meet Hunter’s eyes. “People would talk and spread rumors. It’s best if everything stays the same.”

“Okay.” Hunter said, a little dejected.

They walked in silence for a few blocks, but Hunter couldn’t keep quiet. “We used to be friends.”

“Out of necessity.”

“But we knew each other.”

“Only enough to survive.”

“Tristan--”

Tristan stepped in front of Hunter and glared. “You don’t know me, Hunter. You may know about what happened to us, but you don’t remember. You don’t remember the important parts.”

The words cut through her, even more so because she’d never imagined someone accusing her of forgetting them.

“I’m trying Twist.” She tried to make the other girl smile with the nickname, but it seemed to have the opposite affect.

“Don’t call me that.” Tristan turned away, grimacing.

“Why not? Sebastian and my brother called you Twist.”

“They both know who called me that first.”

Something prickled the back of Hunter’s brain and, without remembering, she understood. “It was me.”

Tristan nodded. “You gave me a nickname so I could forget the people who named me, who put me in that place. Only people I can trust are allowed to call me Twist.”

“And you can’t trust me?”

“No.” Tristan gasped and turned back her. “No, I know you wouldn’t turn me over. But… I can’t…” She grimaced again. “I can’t trust me when you’re around.”

She pulled a handful of cranes from her pocket. They fluttered and hopped on her palm, each turning to face Hunter.

“You break me.” She continued. “I can’t use my ability to find anyone else when you’re around. You invade everything.”

“Because I don’t remember?”

“Because you don’t have to.” Tristan crushed the cranes and shoved their remains back into her jacket. “You don’t have to do anything.” She took a few steps back. “Just… stay away.” She turned around and ran.

“Huntress.” Hunter whispered after her. A wave of memories came flooding back to her. She’d weakened her brother’s hold on her memories, but she still didn’t have them all. What she did have, came too late.

She’d called Tristan ‘Twist’ because she hadn’t understood the art of origami. All she saw was the girl manipulating the papers with her hands. In return, Tristan had called her ‘Huntress’ because she always ran to her when they were in the same room.

One by one, she remembered moments with Tristan in that horrible broken farm. Tristan’s ability hadn’t been the only broken thing about her. Her spirit had been shattered. Hunter now knew it was her parents who’d shattered her. Her arms and legs were covered in little cuts, paper-cuts from her little papers.

“Let’s go.” Hunter remembered herself saying, arm extended to her roommate, as Thomas waited at the open door.

“Where?”

“Anywhere that’s not here.” Five-year-old Hunter gave a big smile, but 16-year-old Hunter could hear the fear in her voice. She may not have been broken going in, but she was definitely broken coming out.