The coffee shop on Fifth Street felt like neutral ground—public enough to keep things civil, familiar enough that Lily wouldn't feel trapped. She'd chosen a corner table, back to the wall, watching the door. Old habits from two years of looking over her shoulder, waiting for ghosts to catch up.
Mily arrived exactly on time. She always did.
Her twin sister looked polished as ever—designer coat, perfect makeup, not a hair out of place. But there were shadows under her eyes that foundation couldn't hide.
"Thanks for meeting me," Mily said, sliding into the seat across from her.
"You said it was important." Lily kept her voice neutral. They'd barely spoken since she'd left the country. A few stilted phone calls, obligatory birthday texts. The easy intimacy they'd shared as children felt like a lifetime ago.
Mily ordered a latte, extra shot. Lily stuck with black coffee. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken history.
"How's Dad?" Mily asked finally.
