As Vivian sat at a table within the grounds of the outdoor café, she tried to recall a time in her life when she had ever felt so nervous.
The wrought-iron chair pressed cold against her back through her blouse, but she hardly noticed. Her gaze was focused on the woman sitting at a table on the other side of the street. The woman was flanked by a few friends, and they were enjoying tea, coffee, or some other drink in pristine white, ceramic cups.
The woman was Olivia. Or, according to Nils, Rose. Apparently, that’s what her sister went by these days.
Geneva's late summer air was crisp, with a subtle scent of blooming flowers mingling with the aroma of freshly ground coffee floating from the café's open door. She watched, almost breathlessly, as Olivia smiled, that familiar curve of the lips that Vivian had not seen for years, time seemingly having sculpted her sister into a vision of grace and poise.
Olivia laughed at something one of her friends said, and the sound trickled across the space between them, weaving through the soft chatter of other patrons and the clink of porcelain. Vivian drank in the sight of her sister, noticing the way sunlight danced in Olivia’s hair, now cut shorter than the tresses she remembered braiding as a girl. It felt surreal, like peering through the looking glass into a life paused long ago, now resumed without her.
Could this really be her sister? Could this be Liv? It seemed impossible to fathom after so long, after all that had happened.
As lunch plates were cleared by a waiter and final sips of beverages were taken, Olivia’s friends started to say goodbye. One hurried off on their own, apparently eager to get somewhere. The others were doing the same, giving hugs and meandering away from the table.
Vivian’s pulse quickened; it was time. She rose, the chair scraping against the cobblestone floor with a sound that seemed too loud in her ears. She stepped forward, her movements feeling oddly mechanical after hours of waiting, watching.
Olivia stood, collecting her belongings, her motions fluid and unhurried. Vivian closed the distance, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts yet strangely empty of words. What could she say after all this time? Her former life of art theft, the high-stakes chase, the ultimatum by Interpol…it all seemed distant, dwarfed by the magnitude of this reunion.
She crossed the street and approached her sister from behind. Olivia was beginning to walk away, her focus somewhere down the street ahead of her.
"Hey, Liv," she said, her voice emerging steadier than she felt. It was simple, familiar—it was all she needed to say.
The world seemed to pause around them, the hum of conversation dimming into silence. People moved in the periphery, but for Vivian, there was only Olivia, only this moment suspended in time. The suspense hung heavy in the air like the rain clouds to the east that seemed to threaten a visit within the hour.
Olivia turned around slowly, as if she was afraid there might be a ghost waiting behind her. And in some ways, Vivian thought, that was very much the case.
When Olivia’s eyes fell on her sister, her features contorted with shock; her eyes widened as she absorbed the sight of Vivian. But then, almost as quickly, a cascade of tears welled up, glittering like the surface of a lake in the late afternoon sun. She stumbled forward into Vivian's arms, her embrace tight and fraught with years of unspoken words.
“Oh my God,” Olivia cried. The tears were sincere, as was the gasp of emotion that followed. “Viv…what the hell are you doing here?" Olivia's voice was a strained whisper, her breath warm against Vivian's ear. It was a mix of disbelief and fear, a cocktail of emotions that Vivian knew all too well.
“Well…I’m here to see you. Silly.”
They broke the hug with an effort that seemed far too massive. They continue to stare at one another as they almost habitually fell into the chairs that Olivia and her friends had just left behind. They sat across from each other, the wrought iron chairs scraping beneath them.
“I mean…I have to ask…” Olivia said. “How…how did you find me?”
“Um…well, I have contacts now. A new job that sort of offers certain privileges.”
“Like a job-job?”
“Yeah. Believe it or not, I actually work with Interpol now.”
Olivia's laughter was sharp, disbelieving. "You? With the law? Bullshit.”
"Nope. Not at all." Vivian reached into her jacket pocket, fingers brushing the cool metal of her badge. She flipped it open, laying it on the table. The emblem glinted, official and undeniable. "This is how I found you."
Olivia's gaze flickered to the badge, then back to Vivian's face—searching, perhaps, for the sister she remembered. Vivian held her breath, knowing that the revelation could sever the tenuous thread connecting them or weave it stronger. And for a moment, she thought she saw something unkind in her sister’s eyes. Fear? Doubt? Anger? She wasn’t sure.
Around them, the café hummed with the quiet symphony of clinking glasses and cutlery—the sounds of an everyday afternoon. But nothing at their table felt real or common. This had been a long time coming and already, Vivian thought she could feel something unstable about…something on the verge of breaking.
“Why Interpol?” Olivia said.
“They…well, let’s just say they made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“No, no, there’s a much longer story there. I think a story I need to hear.”
“For sure. But, what about you? What have you been up to, Liv? Or, should I say Rose?”
Olivia flinched a bit. “Damn. Interpol is pretty good, huh?”
“Yeah, we’re not too bad.”
Olivia’s smile faltered, and her eyes clouded over—a still pond disturbed by a sudden stone. "I left for a reason, Viv," she said, her words measured, cautious. "Home, I mean. Dad…and then you. I love that you're here and, oh my God, I can't get over how nice it is to see you." The tears in her eyes were proof of this, Vivian supposed. However, she sensed a but coming.
“It’s good to see you, too, Liv. I’ve missed you more than you can ever know.”
“But Vivian…this new job of yours. Even if it means things are different for you now; it doesn’t change why I had to go."
The air between them thickened, heavy with unspoken truths. A breeze fluttered the napkins on the table. Vivian felt a pang of remorse; beneath the surface, the wounds were raw, the scars unhealed. Maybe they would never heal.
"Look, I love you, Viv." Olivia's voice cracked, a dam holding back a flood of emotions. Her eyes glistened, tears threatening to spill. "I'm proud of you, really. And I hope we can maybe talk nicely and maybe share a meal in the next day or so. But, but I never wanted to be found."
The confession struck Vivian like a blow. Silence hung between them, punctuated only by Olivia's sniffles. Vivian reached out, her hand hovering over Olivia's, yearning to bridge the gap. She withdrew at the last moment, respecting the boundaries her sister had drawn.
"Can't we talk about it?" Vivian whispered, her heart aching.
Olivia shook her head, fresh tears carving paths down her cheeks. "I appreciate you finding me, I do. But there are things... broken things that can't be put back together."
The finality in Olivia's voice echoed in Vivian's mind, a somber note amid the café's light-hearted symphony. She watched as her sister dabbed her eyes with a crumpled tissue, the joyous reunion turning bittersweet.
Vivian's own eyes began to burn with the threat of new tears—not tears of joy at their reunion, but of sadness over how utterly miserable it had gone. She fought to keep her composure, needing to be strong for both of them. But inside, her world was fracturing, the pieces of her family drifting further apart.
The realization settled heavily upon her, and Vivian sat back, a spectator to Olivia's quiet sorrow.
"Olivia, why?" Vivian's voice cracked, the words barely escaping her lips as the sadness seeped into her bones. “Why the secrecy? Why the new name and the…”
But she stopped, not sure if she even wanted an answer.
Olivia stood, chair scraping back with a finality that echoed in the tiny space between them. Her eyes, red-rimmed and swollen, met Vivian's for a fleeting moment before darting away. "I guess the apples never fall far from the tree," she murmured, her voice a ghost of its former self.
"What do you mean?"
There was a note of anger in Olivia’s voice when she responded. “Despite everything I did to escape, to be different, it caught up to me. Okay? It gobbled me up, too.”
“What did?”
“The life you chose, the one Dad led—it's like a shadow I can't shake." She was nearly shouting now, out of anger and, Vivian thought, shame.
"Olivia, please—" Vivian reached out as if to tether her sister to the spot.
"Look, like I said," Olivia interrupted. "I'm fine to hang out and have a drink or dinner and we can talk about…what? I don't know. And that's just the thing. I ran away from it all, and it still got me. And you being here…it’s like I’m being teased. Can you understand that?”
"No," Vivian snapped. "I'm sorry, but I can't."
“Then this little reunion is over.”
“Liv, I—”
But Olivia was already retreating, a figure receding into the backdrop of busy street-goers and whirring mopeds. Vivian half-rose, spurred by the urge to chase, to demand answers.
But it would be useless. That was clear. Even now, after so many years. Olivia still needed her space from her family, perhaps more now than ever.
Vivian settled back into her chair, hands gripping the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles turned white. She watched Olivia's form diminish in the crowd, a pang of regret ricocheting through her chest. Had her quest to reconnect only served to reopen old wounds?
And would those wounds ever actually heal?
One comment in particular rushed through her mind, one Vivian thought might haunt her for quite some time. Despite everything I did to escape... to be different, it caught up to me.
What did that mean, exactly? What had happened to her sister?
The remnants of their shared past seemed to hang in the air, tangible yet unreachable. Vivian's heart ached with the weight of what could have been, of the sisterhood they once had. She stared at the empty chair across from her, the imprint of Olivia's presence still lingering.
As the distance between them grew, Vivian wondered what it was about their father's legacy that had ensnared Olivia too. The thought burrowed deep, leaving a hollow echo in its wake. But it also left an itch, a persistent nagging sensation that told her no matter what it required or how long it might take, she'd never give up on her sister.
She’d never give up on her family.