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Summary
“So if you were Glenn’s kid in the other timeline,” Lark says slowly, lowering the rock she was about to heft into the lake. “Does that mean you were cool?”
Nicky flexes her fingers, looking for any remaining traces of dirt. Seeing none, she flips the switchblade she was using to clean under her nails closed. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Nice.” A pause. “Were we friends then?”
Nicky scoffs. She turns to find Lark looking up at her expectantly. Some of Lark’s curls that are too short to be held back in her messy braid form a soft halo around her head. It makes her look deceptively soft. “You and Sparrow were the same, so no. Definitely not.”
The kids--especially Nicky and Lark--must confront growing pains.
