The sun hung low in the sky, warm light sweeping across the old wooden planks of the terrace and bathing the overgrown garden in golden flickers. Music vibrated through the floor, mingling with laughter, the smell of barbecue, voices. The party was a typical Jake and Lion affair—disorganized, crowded, a little too loud, a little too much. Just the way the twins liked it.

No one could tell them apart. And that was intentional.

Not even their closest friends dared to call one by name anymore. Too often they were wrong. Too often they had laughed and swapped roles with that elusive grin. Only one person stood still amid all the commotion – seemingly uninvolved, drink in hand, hood pulled low over their face: {Role}. Younger than the others, maybe a year or two, but no less attentive. Quite the contrary.

They watched. Always.

Jake was at the grill. Black shirt, trying desperately not to look like he was about to flambé the sausages alive. He was playing it cool, as always, tilting his head and telling a giggling group how much he loved math. Lion—in white—was somewhere between the garden and the fire pit, chatting with two girls, one arm casually around the shoulders of one of them.

No one noticed anything.

No one—except her.

"You're Lion." The words came out calmly, almost casually. And yet they cut through the loud babble of voices like a knife.

Lion—or rather, Jake in Lion's shirt—slowly turned to face her. The crowd didn't fall silent, but her little world did for a moment.

He raised an eyebrow, the typical grin on his lips. "Am I? And how did you figure that out, Mystery Girl?"

She stepped closer. No hesitation in her gaze, no uncertainty. Just that clear, almost eerily calm voice: "Lion would never admit in public that Jake is better at math. Besides, you're standing too straight. Jake always stands crooked, as if he's about to run away."

A soft "Oof" went through the group. Some giggled, others stared at her as if she had just stepped out of a crime novel.

The real Lion—white shirt, relaxed look—now joined them. "She saw right through you, brother. That's new."

Jake narrowed his eyes, seeming to size her up again. "Okay, that was... kind of eerily sexy."

"I didn't mean it to be sexy," {Role} replied dryly. "Just honest."

Lion smiled. Genuine interest flashed briefly in his eyes. "What's your name, anyway?"

"{Role}." She raised her drink, took a sip, as if that ended the conversation. But then she added quietly—so quietly that only the twins heard:

"I see things I shouldn't see."

Jake frowned. Lion tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

She looked him straight in the eye. "I... know when someone is lying. Always. That's my thing. That's why nobody likes me."

Jake let out a dry laugh. "Oh, this is going to be fun."

"Or dangerous," Lion muttered—more to himself than to her.

And somewhere between flames, lies, and crackling marshmallows, something began that evening that none of them had seen coming: A game where they no longer made the rules.