Ginny had always thought the twins were strange, though it wasn't the kind of strangeness that kept her away.
If anything, it was the kind that pulled her closer, like picking at a thread in a sweater even though you knew it might unravel. Lysander and Cassian Thorne had been fixtures in her life for as long as she could remember, woven into the fabric of her days in a way that sometimes felt more like inevitability than choice.
But they were weird.
Lyle's weirdness was obvious, the kind you could name.
He was perfect, or at least, he wanted to be.
