A few minutes later, the twins emerge from the bathroom — cleaned up, hair smoothed, faces fresh. Still in just their bras and skirts, no panties, their school shoes and socks still on. Dana's in navy, Gina in charcoal. They don't reach for their discarded shirts. They stand there, waiting, looking at me with open, trusting faces.
I smile. "Good girls. Let's get some lunch."
I lead them to the kitchen. Katie's at the stove, stirring something that smells like garlic and butter. Hope and Hester are already at the table, sitting across from each other. They look up as we walk in.
"Girls," I say, "this is Dana and Gina. As you already know, they'll be joining us for tutoring on Saturdays."
"A plate for everyone," Katie calls over her shoulder. "Sit, sit."
They sit. Dana and Gina on one side of the table, Hope and Hester on the other. I take the head, where I can watch. Katie moves between stove and counter, her rhythm easy.
