Mira felt the bond form on a Tuesday morning in the twenty-first month. She was standing in the kitchen of the apartment she now shared with Samuel, making coffee—the same coffee she had made a thousand times before, in the same kettle, with the same grounds, in the same mugs they had bought together six months ago. The morning light was coming through the window above the sink. A pigeon was cooing on the fire escape outside. The city was just beginning to wake up around them. And she felt it....