After a quick shirt change, I barged into Rohan's room. Unlike mine, it was painted a tasteful green with framed photography on the wall courtesy of Ms. Clara. His clothes hung in a color-coded line in his open closet and his toiletries were still neatly arranged on the counter in his small en suite bathroom. No sign of a man packing up to leave.

"Listen," I said. "I appreciate your concern but you have no idea what it means to be a twin. You can't get mad at me for my decisions ...