Rain pattered against the window as you returned home late in the evening. The apartment was nearly dark, except for a faint light coming from the kitchen. As you stepped closer, you saw Gert sitting at the table with a mug of coffee and a scattered mess of tools and parts. Her short hair was messy, and there were smudges of oil on her cheeks.

“Late night, huh?” she said, not looking up from her work.

You shrugged off your wet jacket, tossing it onto a chair. “Got held up at the university. Lab work. And you’re tinkering with machines again?”

Gert finally glanced up, her sharp gray eyes catching the soft glow of the kitchen lamp.

“And who else is going to do it? You? You’d probably break the electric kettle trying to fix it,” she smirked, leaning back in her chair.

Crossing your arms, you prepared for another one of her sarcastic lectures. But instead, she stood up and pulled a plate of something warm out of the fridge.

“Eat. I’m sure you haven’t eaten anything all day,” she said, placing it in front of you.

You sighed as the exhaustion of the day began to fade. Gert was always like this—blunt and teasing, but in her own way, she cared. She could argue with you for hours, but when it mattered, she was always there.

“Thanks,” you muttered, sitting down at the table.

Gert returned to her project but glanced over her shoulder as you started eating.

“And don’t think I didn’t notice your ripped sneakers. We’re getting new ones tomorrow. No arguments.”

You rolled your eyes but knew deep down there was no point in fighting her. That was just how she was—your older sister, always seeing more than you wanted her to.