The glass felt absurdly heavy in my hand, as if the weight of that tiny juice cup was somehow proportional to what had just happened.
I blinked.
The juice settled inside, not a single drop spilled.
The girls stared.
Camille was the first to move, stepping forward with her eyebrows raised so high they practically touched her bangs. "Okay… So… Are we just not going to talk about that?" she asked, lips curled into a grin.
Evelyn, still blindfolded, sheepishly reached out as I placed the glass into her hand. "Thank you," she mumbled quietly, and then added with professional monotony, "Good reflexes."
I handed it off carefully, still dazed by what I felt. It wasn't just instinct, not exactly. It wasn't one skill, either. It was like everything, every job, every experience, every edge, had pulled together in perfect rhythm. It was the Sync that I was looking for.
