Lina's house smelled of warm bread. Not sweet. The simple kind. The kind that stays. April paused for a moment in the doorway. Inside. Outside. She entered. The door closed softly. Lina was sitting by the window, a book on her knees. Tomas was leaning against the table, unable to sit still.

"If you keep reading, I'll fall asleep," Tomas said. "And I'll suffocate from boredom," he said again.

"You won't die," Lina replied without looking up. "At most, you'll stop talking."

April smiled slightly.

"Read the part where he's wrong," she said.

Lina looked up.

"Why?" Lina asked.

"Because it's the only true one," April replied.

Tomas snorted. "You have a talent for failure."

"They have consequences," April retorted.

Lina read. An apprentice. A mistake. A crack that wouldn't heal. Silence. April got up and went to the window. The river flowed slowly. She put her hand to the glass. And she felt it. A call. Faint. But present. April immediately pulled her hand back.

"I saw you in the square today," Lina said.

April turned.

"They weren't laughing," she continued. "They were waiting."

Silence.

"You move away," Tomas said. "Even when you're here."

April tightened her fingers.

"I don't want to be different..." she said softly. "I just want him to stop reacting."

No one asked anything else. The silence changed.

"I'm fine with this," Tomas said.

Lina lowered her gaze. "Lucky you."

April took a step forward.

"I can try to be normal—"

She stopped. Too late.

"Not yet," Lina said.

Something cracked.

"Shall we have dinner?" Tomas intervened.

"Before it gets worse."

Later, April went out. It was dark outside. She walked. The thought had returned. The woods. It wasn't an idea. It was stronger. A call. April stopped. For a moment she swore she heard the water moving underground. And something responding. April didn't go home. She took a step toward the woods.