The door clicks shut. I let the silence settle, then take them in properly.
Knee-length pleated skirts — Dana's in navy, charcoal for Gina — matching the sweaters. Light blue and pink over white collared shirts. D-cups straining the fabric. When they sit, the skirts ride up just above the knee. Toned calves. Good genes.
I catch Katie's eye. She nods — barely a movement — and stands.
"I'm going to start lunch," she says, casual. "Need anything before I hide in the kitchen?"
"We're fine."
"Shout if you need me."
She disappears down the hall. The apartment settles into quiet.
Just me and the twins.
*System, buy three aerosol bombs.*
[Three aerosol bombs purchased. 30,000 PDP deducted. Current PDP: 38,425.]
I lean against the desk, casual, letting them settle into the silence. Then I begin.
"Before we dive into math, I want you to understand something." I keep my voice low, even. "Being here is about more than grades. You're safe here. You can relax."
*Deploy bomb one.*
