Poor Aurelius. o notice as I slipped my arm t turned to face me fully. “Per’s better not to ory at all, rat keeps c my ory and never quite catc. Running after my story when I had Mrs. Love all along. She loved me, you know.”

    ‘I never doubted it.“ So ter tter not to knoed.

    one to te sky. “Do you think so?”

    ‘No.“

    ‘t it?“

    I slid my arm from ucked my cold . “It’s less story is better t’s too heavy.”

    ‘So. My story is a heavy one.“

    I said notold  ory but my own.

    ‘I er,“ I began. ”A twin.“

    urned to face me.  tened gravely to tory I poured out to him.

    ‘e  me. S to beat for  I couldn’t live rengted us, and she died.“

    My ot over my scar, and I pressed hard.

    ‘My motold me. S it ter for me not to know.“

    ‘A weigory.“

    ‘Yes.“

    ‘But you do know.“

    I pressed  by accident.”

    ‘I am sorry,“ he said.

    I felt my aken by o one great fist. to s I felt tness of o my ear. It is ting of , I t. A . By my side. So t it’s like. I listened.

    t.

    ‘And is it better to know?“ he asked me.

    ‘I can’t tell you. But once you kno’s impossible to go back.“

    ‘And you knoory.“

    ‘Yes.“

    ‘My true story.“

    ‘Yes.“

    ated. Just took a breato grotle bigger.

    ‘You ter tell me, then,“ he said.

    I told. And anding at ting teness of the snow.

    it in ated. “I  the rules.”

    I t it oo. “But w else can we do?”

    ‘t hey?“

    ‘Not