Dimitri had once told Lev he had the gift of timing. Always perfect, Dimitri had joked, ruffling the hair atop Lev’s head, right at the sweet spot, when one moment after would be too late, and one moment earlier would be too soon. When Dimitri had first said it, he’d been referring to the way Lev would pull him to the sidewalk just as the ice cream truck went by or, as they got older, how Lev could always find a taxi, one going by with its lights on just at the moment he raised his hand in the air. One of your little magics, Dimitri had said, smiling as he’d said it, and it was what went
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