The twins were putting away newly cleaned forks without being asked. One of them inquired, “By attachments do you mean that drawer under your bed with the big pink—”
“I will personally banish you to the same place I sent the dish dirt,” Justin said, “and I won’t bring you back, either. And that’s not even this house, when were you going through my stuff in the apartment, and why?”
“Don’t worry,” said the other twin, “we’ve known about that stuff for ages, since we helped you move out of the old place, we even looked some of it up to make sure you weren’t going to hurt yourself,” and patted him on the arm, and picked up a plate.
Justin sighed.
“At least they care?” Kris suggested.
“What point were you and Dad making about me, earlier?” Justin said. His tone did not entirely expect an answer, and held affection along with minor annoyance. “Don’t tell me he told you I’m too nice to people and need looking after.”
“Ah,” Kris said.