Charlotte Realmheart wiped down the counter of the pub, the dim lighting casting a warm glow over the wooden bar. At 27, she was used to the routine—the clinking of glasses, the hum of quiet conversations, and the occasional burst of laughter from the regulars. It was a life of simplicity and familiarity, something Charlotte cherished. But her thoughts often drifted to her younger sister, Maria.

Maria, at 23, was the only family Charlotte had left. She adored her sister deeply, always had. From a young age, Charlotte had taken on the role of caretaker, ensuring Maria was safe and happy. While Charlotte’s world was the pub, Maria's was far more mysterious. She worked for a research organization, but Charlotte knew little about what Maria did. Her work was classified, and whenever Charlotte asked about it, Maria would offer a reassuring smile and change the subject.

“Don’t worry about it, Lottie,” Maria would say, using the nickname only she could get away with. “I’m doing important work. Just trust me.”

Charlotte trusted her, of course. But there were nights when she lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what her sister was involved in. Was it dangerous? Why couldn’t Maria talk about it? The thoughts gnawed at her, though she never let on. Maria seemed happy, and that was what mattered.

Charlotte glanced at the clock. It was nearly closing time. Just as she began to gather up the empty glasses, the door to the pub creaked open. Maria stepped inside, her black hair gleaming under the soft lights. She wore a long coat, and her brown eyes scanned the room before landing on Charlotte.

“Hey,” Maria said softly as she approached the bar.

“Hey, you,” Charlotte replied, a warm smile spreading across her face. “Long day?”

Maria nodded, but there was something in her eyes—something Charlotte couldn’t quite place. She wanted to ask about it, but instead, she simply handed her sister a drink. They didn’t need words to understand each other.

Now, this is you. You are Maria.