How long had I used the hair dye to look differentiated from my brother? It was such a habitual part of my routine, it never even crossed my mind anymore. It was automatic.
But without it...
An idea wormed its way into my brain.
“Yeah,” I said. “We’ll get through it.”
Saffron eyed me. I was used to his face, obviously—but it felt weird looking at it after seeing my own yellow-haired reflection.
Being golden-haired wasmything. So if that was gone, who could possibly tell us apart?
The door to Crimson’s room opened and a huffy suit-wearing lizard-brain frowned at us. He opened his mouth—presumably to scold us—then paused as if his brain had malfunctioned.
“First of all, why are you two arguing outside my room?” he asked, then asked in a more pressing tone, “Second, why do you...”
He faltered, waving a hand around as if the sentence would magically complete itself.
“Look the same?” we both stated at the same time.
Crimson’s lips came together in a confused pout. “Yes.”
Because we’re identical twins, dumbass.
But before I could insult him, Saffron pointed at me. “He lost his dye.”
I had an initial flash of anger.
Then my wacky idea came crawling back. What if I pretended to be Saffron? Would it really work? I needed to test it.
“What?Helost his dye, not me!” I argued, jabbing my finger back in return.
A stupefied expression came over Saffron’s face. From the corner of my eye, I saw Crimson looking baffled, too.
I held my smug grin in check. The illusion worked. I wanted to see how far I could go.
Crimson’s holier-than-thou posture was broken by our—my—little act.
“Um, you... lost your dye?” Crimson’s brows knitted together as he spoke to Saffron.
Saffron scowled in frustration. “I don’t dye my hair.”
“Yes, you do,” I argued.
Saffron gawked. He couldn’t believe it.
Crimson glanced back and forth between us. He clearly didn’t know who to believe, either. How could he? We looked and acted identical. Even our own brother couldn’t differentiate us.
It was such a stupid, blatant plan.
It wasperfect.
“Stop it,” Saffron hissed at me.
The act came naturally.
“No, Aurum, you’re the one who has to stop,” I insisted.
“I’m Saffron!” he yelled, his voice cracking.
