Chapter 9 — Sisters Encounter
Royal Mall had a reputation even Alex, thirteen years removed from the country, still remembered — one of the largest shopping centers in the world, built around a garden entrance so elaborate it looked designed for tourists who'd come to Florelia purely for the flowers the country was named after.
"It's bigger than I remember," Fidelia said, staring up at the fountain, genuinely stunned. "This garden alone is worth the trip."
"I forgot how much they'd expanded it," Alex admitted, turning in a slow circle to take it all in. Ten years away had apparently been long enough for an entire country to reinvent itself without her noticing.
They started in the home section, since their new apartment — finally ready, courtesy of Royalstar — needed everything from furniture to bedding before it would feel like anywhere they actually lived. Alex picked up a sewing machine along the way, along with enough fabric and notions to keep her occupied for months. She'd been sewing since childhood, a habit inherited from her grandfather, one that had eventually turned into a full degree in fashion design she'd never gotten to properly use.
They had everything delivered and stopped for lunch at a small restaurant specializing in traditional Florelian food — a spicy beef soup that had Alex smiling into her bowl the entire meal, the kind of contentment Fidelia had learned to recognize as her friend's version of pure joy.
Watching her, Fidelia felt the familiar ache she always got these days when she really looked at Alex. Her friend seemed lighter after the cemetery visit, more present than she'd been in years. But there was still a loneliness underneath it that food and shopping couldn't fully touch, and Fidelia had started to wonder, quietly, whether anyone besides herself would ever manage to reach it.
With lunch finished, they headed toward the last stop on their list.
"We should check out CANDIDE while we're here," Fidelia said, practically vibrating with excitement. "I need to update my wardrobe anyway."
"We don't have an appointment. You know it's invitation-only."
"Come on. I doubt that's actually going to be a problem for you."
"Rules are rules," Alex said, though the corner of her mouth curved upward. "Even the owner's supposed to follow them. Though I suppose the manager can't very well turn away the person who owns the place."
"Exactly my point. Let's go, please." Fidelia gave her best pleading look, the one that had gotten her out of trouble more times than either of them could count.
As they made their way toward the entrance, Fidelia, distracted by her phone, bumped into a young woman walking the opposite direction. Both Alex and Fidelia apologized quickly and kept moving, barely registering the collision.
Behind them, the young woman stared after them for a beat before turning to her friend, who hadn't looked up from her own phone. "Clara, I think that was Alex. The model who took the ELIA Cosmetic campaign from me. What is she even doing here — wasn't she supposed to be in New Bell?"
Clara glanced up, distracted. "There's an article going around about Ethan and some woman. I'm too annoyed to focus on anything else right now."
"Are you sure it was her?" Aria pressed.
"Her eyes. I'd know that particular blue anywhere — it's the exact reason you lost that campaign in the first place." Clara said it plainly, entirely missing the way Aria's expression darkened at the reminder.
"Alex Michell. Please." Aria's voice dripped with disdain. "Dressed like she raided a laundry bin. I genuinely don't understand how she landed that contract."
In truth, Alex had dressed plainly on purpose — black pants, a black t-shirt, an oversized blazer, nothing that would draw attention on a day meant for a cemetery rather than a runway. It hadn't worked especially well; she'd forgotten to put her mask back on after apologizing to Clara, and people were staring regardless of what she wore.
"Well, whatever," Aria said, straightening, a slow smile spreading across her face. "She's in my territory now. I think it's time someone reminded her where she stands."
"Do you know where they're headed?" Clara asked.
"Her friend was looking at the CANDIDE app when she bumped into me."
Aria's smile sharpened. "Perfect. If they're heading there, this is about to be very entertaining."
They caught up quickly, cutting directly in front of Alex and Fidelia just before the entrance, the collision clearly deliberate this time.
"Oh, sorry — didn't see you there," Aria said, her smile not reaching her eyes.
"No problem," Alex replied, entirely unbothered, already moving to step around her.
"Oh? Are you heading in there too?" Aria asked, gesturing at the storefront with exaggerated surprise.
"So are you, apparently," Fidelia said flatly, already certain these two girls hadn't bumped into them by accident twice in a row. "What a coincidence."
Alex said nothing, simply studying the woman in front of her for a long moment. Something about her was familiar in a way that had nothing to do with the modeling world.
It was the eyes that did it — no, not the eyes, the entitlement behind them, the particular way she held herself like the entire mall existed to serve her convenience. Alex had seen that exact expression across a dinner table once, years ago, in a house she'd spent exactly one miserable year living in.
Her stepsister. Older now, more polished, wearing considerably more makeup than Alex remembered, but unmistakably the same girl who'd made that year the worst of Alex's childhood, competing over everything from grades to attention to the simple fact of existing in the same house.
Alex had been young enough, back then, to hope for something different. She remembered the first week clearly — a naive kind of excitement at the idea of having a sister, imagining shared secrets and borrowed clothes and someone to sit with at breakfast. That hope had lasted exactly as long as it took Aria to realize Alex was competition rather than company, and from that point on, every meal, every outing, every small moment of a child's life had become something to win.
Alex hadn't expected to run into her here, of all places, on a day that had already asked so much of her. But there was something almost funny about it too — the timing, the setting, the sheer audacity of Aria's fake apology.
Aria, for her part, hadn't recognized her at all. Whatever she remembered of the stepsister she'd tormented as a child, it clearly didn't match the woman standing in front of her now.
"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Aria said, holding up a small pink card with practiced disdain. "This store doesn't let just anyone in. You need one of these."
She turned without waiting for a response, pulling Clara along with her into the shop, both of them walking with the exaggerated confidence of women who'd never once been told no.
Fidelia rounded on Alex the second they were out of earshot, something clicking into place. "Wait — that's her. The one who lost the ELIA endorsement to you. She was supposed to be the face of that brand before they saw your test shots and changed their minds."
"That would explain the attitude." Alex allowed herself a small, private smile, watching the door the two women had disappeared through. "I thought she might recognize me. Guess not." She glanced sideways at Fidelia. "She's my father's daughter."
"Wait, really?" Fidelia's eyebrows shot up. "You two look nothing alike. Honestly, with all that makeup, she looks like she's wearing a mask over a mask. How does a model not notice that on herself?"
"Not everyone's figured out that less is more," Alex said, laughing properly now that the initial shock had worn off. "I got my looks from my mother. She got hers from someone else entirely, apparently."
They laughed harder than the joke probably deserved, mostly from the release of tension more than anything genuinely funny about it, and started walking toward the entrance themselves, security guard already eyeing them warily as they approached without an invitation in hand.