Chapter 4

Going Home for Winter Break, Family Dynamics

The cabin was exactly as Rin remembered from childhood visits—all exposed beams and stone fireplace, picture windows overlooking snow-covered pines, the smell of woodsmoke and her grandmother’s ancient potpourri sachets. Her mom had already been up earlier in the week to stock the fridge and turn on the heat, so the place was warm and welcoming when they arrived just after dark.

“Girls, you’re in the loft,” her mom announced, hauling grocery bags toward the kitchen. “Same as always. I put fresh sheets on the bed this morning.”

The bed. Singular.

Rin’s eyes met Kiko’s across the living room, and she saw her own panic reflected back. The loft had a queen-size bed, plenty of room for two people who were actually sisters, but suddenly seeming impossibly intimate for two people navigating whatever this was between them.

“I’ll take our bags up,” Kiko said quietly, grabbing both suitcases and heading for the stairs before Rin could respond.

Rin helped her mother unpack groceries, falling into familiar patterns—pasta in the pantry, milk and eggs in the fridge, bread on the counter. Her mom chattered about the trip up, about the fresh snow forecasted for tomorrow, about how nice it would be to have everyone together for the holidays.

“You seem distracted, honey,” her mom said, pausing with a can of soup in her hand. “Everything okay?”

“Fine,” Rin said automatically. “Just tired from finals.”

Her mother studied her with that maternal X-ray vision that saw through every lie. “You and Kiko doing okay? As roommates? I know living together can be an adjustment.”

Rin’s heart lurched. “We’re fine. Great, actually. She’s a really considerate roommate.”

“Good. I was worried at first—you two have always been close, but close as sisters is different from close as roommates.” Her mom smiled. “But David and I are so glad it’s working out. You girls have such a special bond.”

Rin made some noncommittal noise and escaped upstairs under the pretext of unpacking.

The loft was open to the living room below, a cozy space with sloped ceilings and that one big bed dominating the floor. Kiko had set both suitcases on the floor and was standing at the window, looking out at the dark forest beyond.

“We can make this work,” Kiko said without turning around. “I’ll stay on my side, you stay on yours. We’ll put pillows between us if we need to.”