Page 99 of Hunger & Harmony

I nearly trip over myself to start texting. Her typing bubble disappears, so I send my message first.

Hey! I miss you. I’m also back in Sunveil.

Only a few moments later, her reply comes through.

Lala

Are you free?

Nerves roll through my stomach, twisting and punching as I pace at the front door. Viola said we should meet at my place, and I agreed. It’s too risky to go out right now, and I can’t leave this area without feeling the bond strain, anyway.

The doorbell sings. I wipe my clammy palms on my pants.

Honestly, I don’t know what to expect. A cold jab about how she told me so? Her signature judgement wrapped in lip gloss and mascara? Maybe I’m too paranoid and letting everything get to me.

Because the second I open the door, I’m crushed in a blackberry vanilla scented embrace.

“Cadie, oh my god.”

Relief surges through me, tears forming as I hug her back. She’s always been taller, but somehow she feels so small right now. Like she needs me even more than I need her.

“Lala.” I sniffle into her chest, careful not to stain her velour jacket.

She’s always so perfect. Perfectly dressed, with a trendy two-piece set that matches her lilac nails. Perfectly maintained, her makeup so effortless, and her dark hair loose down her back. Perfectly contained, too, like she’s always anticipating the worst. Her violet gaze darts around when we pull away, picking up on every detail, like an animal in a cage.

“It’s just me,” I assure her.

I’m overwhelmed by many thoughts and feelings. I could be mad at her, but I just can’t.

“Come on in.”

After I close the door behind us, and her pristine sneakers are lined up next to my haphazard pile, she turns to me again. Her mouth opens. It then closes. I smile wistfully, knowing there are a million things to say.

“I don’t have much, but do you want something to eat?” I ask. “Maybe some water?”

She shakes her head, like she always does.

“I’m kind of queasy.”

I gasp and hurry her into the small living room, offering a spot on the brown couch. She looks out of place here, too pretty to sit on such plain furniture. It’s always been that way between us. We’re an odd mix.

“It’s nice,” she says, glancing around after sweeping her long bangs out of her face. “Do they provide this place for you?”

“Huh?” The dots connect in my mind before I say, “Oh! Yes, they do.” I gesture around. “It’s connected to the company building.”

“Convenient,” she says, and I nod.

I take a seat next to her, trying not to let my smile fall. She looks exhausted. Cold sunlight filters in through the blinds, and she shies away from it, leaning closer to me.

“The trainee dorms suck.” She laughs shortly. “More cramped than university and even less privacy than home. Consider yourself lucky.”

She’s never one to dance around a topic. I shift where I sit, fidgeting with my hands. Why is this so awkward? Things have changed, yes, but . . .

“It’s nice, too, because I have a lanyard with, like, an ID on it? All I have to do is walk to the connecting doors, scan my card, and boom.”

“Seriously?” She rolls her eyes, and I see glimmers of her usual teasing. “Wow, maybe I should call up that girl who sent you over here. Maybe she could hook me up with a better gig.”

We share a giggle, and I so desperately cling to what little ease is still between us. I don’t want to address the obvious. I just want my sister back.