They say history repeats itself. Will it really happen again?

  Whiskey and work. They go hand in hand nowadays. Each sip dulls the sharp edges of reality, making the long hours and endless tasks more bearable. It’s a temporary escape, a way to numb the pain and exhaustion. But then again, I have everything I’ve ever wanted. A multi-billionaire company, more money than I know how to spend, and somehow a retively low amount of family feuds within my circle. Seems like it’s good enough, so why do I keep drowning out everything with the feeling of warm alcohol burning my throat? I set down the crystal-cut whiskey gss to the side and pick up my notebook. My schedule, meticulously printed and pinned to the front by my assistant, stares back at me. Lately, she’s been scking more often than not. I should probably write a note to fire her one of these days.

  “Ms. Rothbride?” a soft voice calls from my side. It’s my assistant. “The pne will be nding in a few minutes. Your sister will be waiting for you at the airstrip.”

  “Will she? She hasn’t informed me that she will be there.”

  “Yes, this is the first time she’s letting me know about this as well. I can forward you the email she sent to me a minute ago.”

  “No need, I have no issues with meeting Genevieve. You may go now.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I sigh softly. So Genevieve will be meeting me today, will she? I’ve missed her. It’s been around 2 years since I st saw her. Just the thought of meeting her again brings a smile to my face. I had left the U.S. for our international sectors. We were pnning on expanding our market, but our company was facing issues. I went over there to sort everything out. But I didn’t expect it to take over two years. I suppose that was partly my fault. I got a little too used to spending time there and allowed myself to stay. Since I left, I haven’t seen my sister face-to-face, and FaceTime just doesn’t have the same click. I adjusted in my seat and let out a deep breath.

  I can’t wait to see you again, Vivi

  The speaker came on. “Ms. Rothbride, please fasten your seatbelt and prepare for nding.”

  Soon enough, the runway comes into view, a long, straight strip of pavement. The pne’s wheels touch down with a soft thud, followed by the familiar roar of the engines’ reversing thrust. The aircraft slows, the scenery outside rushing past in a blur before gradually coming to a steady pace. The sense of movement slows to a crawl as the pne taxis towards the terminal, finally coming to a stop.

  “Finally.”

  I unfasten my seatbelt and pick up my notebook and purse. My assistant will be handling the rest of my belongings. She’s quite competent at certain things, so maybe I won’t fire her immediately. I shook my head and securely pced the notebook into my purse.

  As I step off the private jet onto the secluded airstrip, the crisp air greets me, a refreshing change from the cabin’s stillness. The hum of the jet engines fades into the background, leaving a quiet serenity in its wake. I adjust my purse on my shoulder, my eyes scanning the open area. In the distance, I spot a sleek bck car parked near the edge of the airstrip. Leaning against it is a familiar figure, Genevieve. She stands out against the backdrop, her posture rexed yet poised. As if sensing my presence, she turns her head, and our eyes meet. A wave of emotions washes over me: relief, joy, and a touch of nervousness. It’s been far too long since we’ve seen each other, and the sight of her is both comforting and bittersweet. Genevieve raises a hand in a tentative wave, a small smile pying on her lips.

  I quicken my pace, the sound of my footsteps on the tarmac echoing in the quiet air. Each step feels lighter as I approach her. When I finally reach the car, she opens her arms, and I find myself enveloped in a warm, familiar embrace. The world around us seems to fade away, if only for a moment, as we reconnect after what feels like an eternity.

  “Esme...I’ve missed you,” her voice was muffled by the sweater I was wearing.

  “I’ve missed you more, Vivi.” I pull back to take a closer look at my little sister, “Look at you! You look like a posh business dy.”

  “Maybe ‘cause I’m supposed to be Essie. You put me in charge, remember! And you look....interesting.”

  I couldn’t argue. My appearance has seen better days. My hair, once carefully styled, now hung in loose, tangled waves around my face, slightly frizzy from the hours spent in the dry cabin air. Dark circles under my eyes hinted at the sleep I had missed doing work, and my complexion appeared a bit pale and drawn. I wore a cozy, oversized sweater that looked like it had seen better days, slightly wrinkled and stretched from the long flight. My sweatpants, though comfortable, bore the creases and marks from hours of sitting, and my sneakers were slightly scuffed.

  “Okay, well, I just took a 15-hour flight, alright? Leave me be. Do not expect me to wear business attire the entire time or any time for that matter,” I huff, exasperated.

  “But what if someone wanted to see you as soon as you stepped off the pne and all they saw was this homeless woman waddling around?” Vivi quips back, a smirk tugging at her lips.

  “Who are you calling homeless?” I retort, a mix of annoyance and amusement in my voice. “Just because I chose comfort over style doesn’t mean I’ve lost all sense of fashion.” I shake my head, knowing she has a point but unwilling to concede entirely.

  We both break down into a fit of ughter. It’s comforting to know that our attitudes towards each other haven’t changed one bit. She’s still the same little monster that I knew two years ago. I was hoping that the corporate world that she didn’t have too much exposure to wouldn’t change her sunny self, and I was right. She’s still my little sister. A soft smile took over my face as I looked at he,r still giggling over our conversation.

  She looked up, ”What? Do I have something on my face?”

  “Nope, I just missed you,” I tell her softly.

  “I missed you, too, Essie. Now you have to promise that you won’t leave me here all alone for another million years, okay!” Her voice was demanding, but her eyes sparkled with delight.

  “I promise.”

  “Perfect! Now come on. Let’s get you home before someone sees me interacting with a hobo.”

  “You-!” I couldn’t finish my sentence before she pulled me into the car waiting behind us.

  The driver spoke, “Ah, Ms. Esme. It’s good to see you once again.”

  “Gerald! Oh my gosh! It’s been so long. It’s great to see you too!”

  “I suppose both madams will be wishing to go home?”

  I quipped, “Yes, please!”

  Gerald gave a curt nod, acknowledging my request, and started the car. The engine purred to life, and the smooth hum of the vehicle provided a comforting backdrop as we settled into the plush seats. The interior of the car was luxurious, with soft leather and elegant details that spoke of understated opulence. As we pulled away from the airstrip, the scenery outside the window began to blur into a mix of colors and shapes. Genevieve leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment, clearly relieved to have me back. I took the opportunity to reflect on the journey and the emotions that had led to this reunion. The car glided effortlessly along the road, the gentle motion lulling me into a state of calm. Gerald drove with practiced ease, navigating the route with a familiarity that spoke of years of experience. Now and then, he would gnce in the rearview mirror, checking on us with a knowing smile.

  Genevieve broke the comfortable silence, her voice soft and filled with affection, “It’s really good to have you back, Essie. We’ve got so much to catch up on.”

  I smiled, feeling the warmth of her words. “You'd better tell me everything that went down.”

  The rest of the car ride was mostly silent. Both of us wanted to be in our own home before we let out the dam of stories that we kept inside. We both knew that Gerald couldn’t care less about what we said in the car, but we wanted it to be just for ourselves. Vivi coming to pick me up was certainly a boost. I knew that my face reflected my exhaustion and bad habit of neglecting my health. I’m almost certain that she smelled the whiskey on my breath when we hugged. I had almost expected her to scold me right then and there. But she didn’t say anything. Can’t say that I wasn’t grateful, though. I’d rather hide my shortcomings than have the people I love most find out and tell me about them.

  I rub my eyes. My insomnia has been acting up recently. Not sure why but I suppose my already poor sleep schedule was doing anything to help it. I finished up the st of my mountain of work in the jet, but that was mainly because I got about 2 hours of sleep the entire time. Maybe even less. I sigh. I really need to work on taking care of myself. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if I croaked before turning 30. So let’s see, I have four years before I die. Maybe less. I groan internally. Exactly what I was even thinking about.

  It would seem that my pointless thinking distracted me for long enough that we had reached our apartment complex. As the car pulls into the driveway, the sight of their multistory building never fails to take one’s breath away. Standing tall and proud, it is the epitome of elegance and opulence, a masterpiece of modern architecture. The fa?ade gleams with a pristine white finish, accentuated by sleek gss windows that reflect the surroundings like a mirror. Each floor is adorned with intricate balconies, their railings made of wrought iron, intricately designed to add a touch of cssic charm. The grand entrance is fnked by towering columns, leading up to massive double doors crafted from the finest mahogany, polished to a high shine. Above the entrance, a magnificent chandelier hangs from the ceiling, its crystals catching the light and scattering it in a dazzling dispy.

  Damn, I really have missed this pce...

  Gerald pulled the car smoothly into the underground parking lot, the low hum of the engine echoing off the concrete walls. The space was well-lit, and the polished floors gleamed under the fluorescent lights. The car came to a stop in a reserved spot, marked with their family name.

  “We’re here,” Gerald announced, turning off the engine.

  Vivi turned to me with a smile. “Ready to see the old pce again?” We stepped out of the car.

  “Thanks, Gerald,” Vivi said as we grabbed our bags, “We’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  “Of course, Ms. Genevieve. Have a good evening, both of you,” he replied with a courteous nod.

  We walked to the private elevator at the far end of the lot. Vivi swiped her keycard, and the doors slid open with a soft chime. The ride up was smooth and silent, the elevator moving with a whisper-like efficiency. Finally, the elevator doors opened to the topmost floor. There was a white door to the right of me. I opened it, revealing the expansive penthouse that had been my home. The foyer led into a spacious living room, the floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The decor was a blend of modern elegance and luxury, with plush furniture, exquisite artwork, and opulent detailing, courtesy of my mother.

  “Home sweet home,” Vivi said, her voice tinged with warmth and nostalgia. “I made some changes to your house after you left. Thought you wouldn’t mind.”

  I looked around, taking in the familiar surroundings. “It doesn’t look too different,” I replied, my voice soft.

  She led me through the penthouse, showing me the updated touches that had been added over the years. The open-concept living area flowed seamlessly into a state-of-the-art kitchen, and beyond that, the private rooms where we’d spent countless cherished moments. Each step brought back a memory, filling the space with a sense of warmth and belonging. As we reached the rooftop garden, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace wash over me. The lush greenery, the tranquil water features, and the panoramic view of the city below made it a perfect haven away from the hustle and bustle.

  “Welcome back, Essie,” Vivi said, her eyes shining with joy. “I’ve missed having you with me.”

  I smiled. “I’ve missed it too. And I’m so gd to be back.”

  She pulled me to the couch, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Okay, spill it! I want to know every little detail about your trip abroad,” she demanded, barely able to contain her excitement.

  I ughed, settling into the plush cushions. “Alright, where do I start?” I began to recount the highlights of my journey: the pces I visited, the people I met, the food I tasted. Her questions came rapid-fire, each one pulling more memories from my mind.

  “And then,” I said, leaning in conspiratorially, “there was this incredible market in Marrakech. The colors, the smells, the energy, it was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.”

  Her eyes widened, and she leaned closer. “That sounds amazing! Did you buy anything?”

  “Oh, plenty,” I admitted with a grin. “Some spices, a beautiful handmade scarf, and a few trinkets that caught my eye. I’ll show them to you ter.”

  She cpped her hands in delight. “I can’t wait to see! And what about Paris? You have to tell me about Paris.”

  I unched into a story about the quaint little café I found near the Seine, the way the city lights danced on the river at night, and the charming interactions with locals.

  “So you totally have gifts for me, right? You'd better! After all that money I spent making your house look this freaking good.”

  “I have a few things for you, don’t worry. I wasn’t going to come back and leave my spoiled little sister high and dry.”

  I walked into my room, immediately spotting my suitcases neatly pced by the foot of the bed. My assistant had, as always, efficiently taken care of having them delivered. The sight of the familiar luggage brought a sense of relief and excitement. As I carefully unpacked, I found the gifts I’d collected for Genevieve, each one wrapped securely. I started with the beautiful handmade scarf from Marrakech, its vibrant colors and intricate patterns a testament to the artisan’s skill.

  “Vivi, come here! Your gifts!” I called out.

  She came rushing in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “What is it? What did you get me?”

  I handed her the scarf, watching her face light up as she unfolded it. “Oh my gosh, it’s gorgeous! I love it!” she excimed, wrapping it around her shoulders and admiring it in the mirror.

  Next, I pulled out a set of exotic spices from the same market. “I thought you might enjoy experimenting with these in the kitchen. They add incredible fvors to dishes.”

  She took the jars, her excitement only growing. “This is perfect! I’ve been wanting to try some new recipes.”

  I continued to unpack, revealing a delicate porcein teacup from Paris, its design reminiscent of cssic French elegance. “For your tea collection,” I said, handing it to her.

  Vivi cradled the teacup in her hands, her eyes full of appreciation. “You know me so well.”

  Lastly, I found the small trinkets I’d picked up along the way: a bracelet from Italy, a carved wooden figurine from Japan, and a few other things. They aren’t worth much, but I thought that my sister would enjoy these small things with thought behind them rather than big gifts with little emotion.